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THE 



LIFE AND ADVENTURES 



-OF- 



NAT FOSTER, 

TRAPPER AND HUNTER OF THE 
ADIRONDACKS, 



BY- 



A, L. BYRON-CURTISS. 

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UTICA, N. Y.: 
Press of Thomas J. Griffiths. 131 Genesee Street, 

1897. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year i8g7,by 

A. L. BYRON-CURTISS, 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 



PREFACE. 



In writing this book, I have not catered to the 
novel reader or sensational book worm. A 
''plot" could have been introduced, and, weav- 
ing it into the fabric of the whole, the work 
could have been easily changed from the histor- 
ical to the romantic, and a good novel made; 
so I have been told by a few of my friends, who 
have done me the kindness to examine the 
MSS., or have submitted to the ordeal of having 
some of it read to them. But it is in no sense 
a work of fiction. It is a faithful account of the 
life and adventures of a character familiar to 
sportsmen and others who' frequent the Adiron- 
dacks. It has been my endeavor to collect and 
put in form the numerous stories and anecdotes 
told by one of the pioneers of New^ York State; 
though in my desire to vindicate the qualities of 
Nat Foster, I have given considerable not 
actually identified with his adventures, but 
having a bearing on his life. 

The hardy race of men who followed the chase 
for a livelihood in the wilds of Northern New 
York, has passed away. With the men has gone 
the knowledge of many of their exciting ad- 
ventures. It is not too late, however, to gather 



4 Preface. 

from old residents and descendants, many of 
the experiences connected with their profes- 
sion. This is what I have endeavored to do in 
this book; taking pains, as the reader will see, 
to gather only such notes of Foster's life as the 
trustworthy sources assured me of their 
genuineness. The assumption that Foster is 
the hero of Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales I 
think is well founded. I believe the reader 
will agree with me, that the character of Nat 
Foster as portrayed by the facts here present- 
ed, and the character of Natty Bumfo of 
Cooper, are wonderfully similar; which, taken 
with the unbiased opinions of men of Foster's 
time, are weighty arguments in favor of the idea 
advanced. 1 am sure my labors will be appre- 
ciated by those interested. And as Jerome K. 
Jerome observed in his "Idle Thoughts of an 
Idle Fellow," that "some of my relations having 
promised to buy the book, if it ever came out;" 
so I would say that many persons interested in 
the Adirondacks, having expressed a desire to 
own the book "if it ever came out," I feel justi- 
fied in inflicting it on the public. I would in 
conclusion express my thanks to those who 
have in any way contributed to the material 
that makes up the book. 

Rome, N. )'., April, i8gj. The AutJwr. 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 

Nat Foster's Parentage. — Emigration to Hinsdale, 
N. H. — Character of the Town. — Wild animals. — Boun- 
ties for their slaughter. — Indians. — Their Depredations. 
— Tories suspected of Exciting them. — Birth of Nat. — 
The Elder Foster's Patriotism.— Nat Attends a Patri- 
otic Meeting. — His Childish Expression. — "Lish and 
Me'll Stay Home and Shoot Injuns." 
CHAPTER n. 

Mr. Foster Leaves for War. — Fights in Battles of 
Lexington and Bunker Hill. - Is Offered a Captain's 
Commission. — Declines it. — Origin of "Go to Halifax." 
— Washington Admires Foster — Various Services. — Is 
Again Offered a Commission.- Is Ordered to Saratoga. 
— Excursion Through Mohawk Valley. — Rescue of the 
Failing Family. — Service at Battle of Saratoga. — De- 
spatched to Lake George. — Meets Failing. — Mr. Foster's 
Expression of Hatred of Indians 

CHAPTER III. 

Valley Forge. — Mr Foster's Cheerfulness.: — Makes 
Shoes From Horse Hide. — Soup Made From Scraps. — 
Massacre in Wyoming Valley. — Winter Quarters 1779- 
80. — Rations, a Pint of Corn.— Foraging Expeditions. — 
An Old Tory Encountered. — His Stores and a Horse 
Taken. —Foster Goes to Maj. Lee's Tent to Present 
Horse. — Lee asks him to join the Legion — Foster's 
Answer. — Meets Sergeant John Champ. — Plan to Capture 
Arnold. — Champ and Foster's Part in Plan. — Champ's 
Pretended Desertion. — The Legion, with Mr. Foster in 
Command, Start in Pursuit. 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Legion Sights Champ. — Foster Throws the 
Legion off from his Track. — The Attempt to head him 
off. — He Escapes. — Swims to British Gunboats. — Legion 
Returns to Camp.— Foster Remains. — Receives a Note 
from Champ. — He Enlists in Arnold's Regiment. — Mes- 
sages to Foster. — Plans for Capturing Arnold Matured. 
— Fail at Last Moment. — Champ not Suspected of Be- 
ing a Spy. — Accompanies Arnold's Regiment to Vir- 
ginia. — Returns to American Lines. — Affecting Meeting 
of Champ and Foster. — Lee's Welcome. 



6 Contents. 

CHAPTER V. 

Life at the Foster Home During the War. — Mrs.. 
Foster's Arduous Duties. — The Boys Hunt. — They Buy 
a Rifle, — Better Success. — Work up Winter's Wood. — 
Chopping Wood in Winter. — Device for Keeping Their 
Feet Warm. — Indians give Trotible. — Nat Resents it. — 
Is Seized, but Dehvered. — Nat's Nocturnal Encounter 
With a Bear. — Capture of an Eagle. -The Romance in 
Nat's Life Begins at this Time. 

CHAPTER VI. 

Mr. Foster's Long Absence — Hardships Endured by 
Himself and by his Family. — He Decides to Return 
Home. — Mrs. Foster Spinning.— A Knock. — A Stranger. 
— Her Husband. ^Greetings of the Children. — Nat's- 
" Hurrah for Father" — Suggestions of Moving to Mo- 
hawk Valley.— Boys Hail it With Delight.— Mr. Foster's. 
Instructions as to ''Injuns." 

CHAPTER VII. 

Preparations for Emigrating to New York State — 
The Start. — Progress of the Journey. — Hudson River 
Reached. — A Raft Built to Cross. — Indians Seen.^-A 
Watch Kept During Night.— Nat's Plucky Defense.— 
Spills the Blood of an Indian for first Time. — The 
Journey Continued. — They Settle at Johnstown. — Log 
Cabin Homes. — Capture of Zilphah by Indians. — Pursuit 
and Rescue. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Nat at Twenty-one, — A Trip to Piesco Lake. — Res- 
cues a Child from Indians — Forms Acquaintance of 
Stoner. — Participating in Sports on Fourth of July. — 
His Dress. — Leatherstocking. — Wins all the Races — 
Throws the Champion Wrestler. — Rescues the Sweet- 
heart of his Youth. — Departs Upon Discovering her 
Identity.— Her Father's Offer of Reward.— Nat's 
Answer. 

CHAPTER IX. 

Nat Marries.— Settles at Salisbury.— Game Abundant. 
— Great Success in Plunting. — His Industry and Liber- 
ality.— Bounties Cause a Misunderstanding. — Rifles Car- 
ried by Nat. — His Expertness in Loading and Firing. 
—Contest With Soldier.— His Accoutrements for Hunt- 
ing. — Mode of Locating Directions.— His Rescue of Two 
Girls From a Panther. —Used by Cooper. 
CHAPTER X. 

Remarkable Stories Told of Foster.— Author's Rule 



Contents. 7 

in giving those Related. — Animals Trapped and Hunted. 
— A Variety of Adventures. — Story of Bagging Two 
Wolves, five Panthers and a Deer in an Hour. — Only 
time he was Caught Nappmg — Never Outwitted by 
Indians. — Adventures on the Sacondaga River. — Story 
of his Dog Watch. 

CHAPTER XI. 

Foster's Extensive Trips. — Struggles with a Deer. — 
Neighbor Shooting a Bear. — Traps used by Foster. — 
Takes a Wolf for a Pet. — Fondness for Pets, and for 
Children. — Visited by his Nephews. — His efforts to En- 
tertain them. — Teaches them to Shoot — His manner of 
telling Indian Stories. — A "Lucky Shot." — Indian Hess. 
— Foster not Influenced by Sentiment. — Benchley's Ac- 
count of Foster. 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Hunter's Life Threatened by Wolves. — His first 
visit to Fulton Chain. — Stories of Valuable Ores. — Foster 
Prepares for a Season's Trapping along the Chain. — His 
Stump Camp. — Indians Steal from his Traps. — En- 
deavors to Encounter them. — Prepares a Snug Camp for 
Them. — "Frightens" Them Aw^ay. — Condition of the 
Adirondacks Permitted This. — A few 5^ears Labor, and a 
Change. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Mighty changes wrought at Foster's Favorite Section 
of the Wilderness. — C. E. Snyder's paper on Brown's 
Tract. — Speculation in Land. — ^Land Acquired by 
Brown. — Attempts to Develop it. — Brown Dies. — His 
Son-in-law, Herreshoff, attempts it. — His Tragic End. — 
His Settlements fell into Decay. — Foster purchases an 
Assignment of the Lease. — Intends to Spend the Re- 
mamder of his life on the Tract. — An Indian, however, 
Intrudes upon his Retreat. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Foster Advanced in Years, when he Settled at Old 
Forge. — Presence of the Indian Drid a Source of An- 
noyance. — Other Settlers on the Tract. — Benchley's 
Description of the Old Hunter at this time. — Drid 
Threatens his Life. — Endeavors to get out a Peace War- 
rant for him.— A Fishing Party Visits the Tract— Stop 
with Foster. — He agrees to go with them up the Lakes. 
— Quarrels with Indian.— Goes to Point. — Shoots Indian 
as Party Come up the River.— Goes out with Witnesses 
next day.— Arrest, Indictment, Trial, and Acquitted.— 
Goes to Pennsylvania.— Returns to Ava, N. Y.— His 
Peacful Death. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page. 
A Modern Log Camp of the Adirondacks... Frontispiece 

^ A Canvas Camp of the Adirondacks Titlepage, 

Elisha and Nat 14 

, Mr. Foster and his Party... 22 

•^ Piser, the Old Tory 36 

■ Working in the Field 66 

' Mrs. Foster Spinning.... 97 

^ A Country Auction no 

/ A Log Cabin Home _. 123 

'' The Indian Camp 142 

Nat at Twenty-one _ 1 50 

J Hunter's Brush Camp ..172 

/ An Adirondack Indian. 181 

/ Bear in Apple Tree 201 

"f Indians Deceived... 23S 

^ Old Herreshoff House 24S 

"^ Death of the Indian Drid 257 



CHAPTER I. 



NATHANIEL Foster, the hero of this book, 
was of New England stock. His father, 
whose name was Nathaniel, was born in Rhode 
Island, and some time after the close of the 
French and Indian war, married, and with his 
young wife, emigrated to Hinsdale, New Hamp- 
shire. At the time of his settlement at Hins- 
dale, it w^as in the strictest sense a pioneer town, 
situated near the mouth of the Ashuelat River, 
and hard by the Connecticut. 

Its territory, except the few acres cleared by 
the settlers, was covered by virgin forests. Al- 
most all the inhabitants lived in the most primi- 
tive manner possible to civilized people. Log 
houses on squatters' farms formed the bulk of 
the little hamlet. A few sheep and cows, a 
yoke of oxen, and possibly a horse, was owned 
by those settlers who had been a few years at 
the place. Upon a few acres of land cleared by 
earnest toil, was raised Indian corn and Irish 
potatoes. These formed the staple articles of 
their vegetable diet. The woods, abounding 
with game, supplied them with meat. 



lo Life and Adventures of 

Mr. Foster, having selected a favorable site 
for his new house some two miles from the set- 
tlement proper, proceeded first to erect his log 
house, and then attacked the forest. In a couple 
of years he had a number of acres cleared, and 
under cultivation. The second year of his set- 
tlement, the birth of a son gladdened the hearts 
of the young couple. Elisha, the oldest of the 
family, and next to Nathaniel, being born in 
1764. 

Moose and deer were plentiful, while the 
gray wolf and the panther made the nights 
hideous by their howls and screams. Black 
bears were numerous. Mr. Foster, being a 
crack shot, kept his larder well supplied v/ith 
wild meats, while the pelts of the fur-bearing 
animals took the place of ordinary bedding and 
blankets. For being tanned with the hair on 
they furnished warm robes for protection from 
the icy cold of the New England winters. The 
meat of the deer, moose and black bear Vv^as 
corned, smoked, and dried. A great deal of the 
wild game of the woods was of course a source 
of annoyance to the settlers, in their attempts to 
raise domestic animals. Often after a settler 
had, by several seasons' patient breeding, ob- 
tained quite a flock of sheep, or a number of 
cows; or from one sow had obtained a promis- 



Nat Foster. ii 

iiig litter of shoats, his plans and calculations 
were upset by some nocturnal visitor from the 
woods, gaining access to the sheep fold or pig- 
sty, and slaughtering one or more of the ani- 
mals, before the owner could become aware of 
what was going on, and rising from his bed, go 
forth, gun in hand, to drive the intruder away. 

Even in the daytime some wild animals at- 
tacked the domestic ones, if they wandered far 
into the woods. The pigs were never permitted 
to go into the woods in the fall to root for 
acorns, without being accompanied by a man 
with a gun, to shoot any bear which might Aish 
to change its diet from wild berries to fresh 
pork. 

The New England Colonies early began offer- 
ing bounties for the slaughter of these wild 
animals, and the pine-tree shilling was a welcome 
reward to the struggling frontiersmen, in their 
contest with the wild beasts of the wilderness 
they were trying to subdue. 

The wild animals were not so great a source 
of danger to the settlers' flocks of domestic 
ones, however, as the Indians, the latter really 
being their greatest enemies in this resf-ect. 
There were still roving bands of these abori- 
gines, not yet inclined tO' succumb to the ad- 
vancements of the pale-face. These would ap- 



12 



Life and Adventures of 



proach the settlements to steal, sometimes even 
bold enough at that late day, to sack and burn 
the dwellings, and murder and scalp the in- 
mates. Just before the outbreak of the war of 
the Revolution, a small hamlet a few miles from 
Hinsdale was destro3'ed in this way. 

As the colonial spirit of independence in- 
creased, these depredations on the part of the 
Indians grew more frequ.ent and bold. But one 
noticeable feature connected with all Indian 
raids was, that it was always the patriot families 
whose stock was stolen, while the Tories' prop- 
erty would remain undisturbed; so that they 
were soon suspected of exciting the Indians to 
their nefarious business by gifts of rum and 
tobacco. 

Conspicuous among the Tory families at 
Hinsdale at this time was one by the name of 
Wilson. William Wilson was a prominent man 
in the village, which by this time had gotten to 
be quite a town. He held a lucrative position 
for those days, under the service of the Crown, 
and was the stamp-agent under the famous 
Stamp Act. Hence he was a marked loyalist. 
He lived very comfortably in the only frame 
dwelling in the hamlet, kept a couple of ser- 
vants, and sent his only child, a daughter, to 
school in Boston. He had a great many doings 



Nat Foster. 13 

with the Indians under the guise of a trader, 
and was thoroughly suspected by the patriots 
of being one of the chief ones who encouraged 
the Indians in phuidering and steahng from the 
patriotic settlers on the frontier. So numerous 
and bold had the Indians become, that Mr. fos- 
ter, in less than a year, had all of his cows 
stolen, and a flock of thirty sheep reduced to 
six. One day, during his absence from home, 
their only remaining pig, a sow, was stolen. 

Upon his discovery and report of the loss, his 
Tory neighbors offered as explanation that a 
wild animal had taken it; but he scouted this 
idea, and declared that it was mighty funny that 
a panther or wolf would steal a pig from its 
sty in broad daylight. "No," said he, "it was 
none of a our four legged varmits that done it. 
I reckon it was them two legged ones you're a 
settin' on us." 

The suffering patriots could not shoot their 
Torv neghbors, but it is needless to say that 
they dealt with the Indians in the same manner 
as they dealt with wild animals that stole from 
their Mocks. They shot them. 

Under such circumstances, and at such times 
as these, was Nathaniel Foster, Jr., born, on 
the 30th day of Ji^ne, 1766, nine years prior to 
the outbreak of the war for Independence. And 



14 Life and Adventures of 

as we read of the liardy days of his boyhood, and 
the struggle of his family for existence, inten- 
sified by the depredations of Indians, his own 
young life environed by influences of the woods, 
we do not wonder at his remarkable career as 
a hunter and trapper, and the hardiness he dis- 
played in following that pursuit. Nor can we 
wonder at the indifference he sometimes dis- 
played in making away with such Indians as 
were unfortunate enough to imagine that they 
could cross him in the following of his chosen 
calling in the Adirondack Mountains. 

The elder Nathaniel, being an ardent patriot, 
was a leader in holding meetings in the town- 
ship, in the interest of liberty. When Nathaniel,. 
Jr., was scarcely seven }'ears old, he and his 
brother Elisha asked their father to take them 
to one of these meetings. At first he de- 
murred, but finally yielded to their importuni- 
ties, and took them along with him; with con- 
siderable grumbling, however, saying they 
would only be "under foot and in his way." At 
this meeting, Mr. Foster made a rousing 
speech, following the popular and usual strain 
of the time of "give me liberty, or give me 
death." In closing he exclaimed impressively, 
"1 am ready now to go and fight the Crown." 
Young Nat, who with his brother occupied a 









'Nat * * * with his brother occupied a back seat. 



N'at Foster. 15 

back seat, had listened with open mouth (and 
ears) to his father's flow of patriotic and revolu- 
tionary expressions, and seemed to have caught 
the spirit of the occasion; for as his father ut- 
tered the alcove words, he piped up from his 
seat in the corner, in a shriU but defiant Uttle 
voice, "Yes, dad, you go, and Lish and me'll 
stay home and shoot Injuns." This childish 
expression of patriotism and defiance of the 
Crown was greeted with exclamations of de- 
light from the hardy pioneers present. Nat 
was brought from his seat in the corner, greet- 
ed with three hearty cheers from their lurty 
lung.-, and the meeting dispersed. 

Less than tw'O years passed ere his father did 
go to "fight the Crown," andElisha and Nat 
were left at home to "shoot Injuns." But 
not to shoot Indians only; but also tO' partici- 
pate in, and share the hardships and privations 
which the patriotic families of those times were 
called upon to endure, while the heads of the 
families were away "fighting the Crown," and 
gaining for us that priceless heritage of liberty, 
which we all enjoy, but do not appreciate one 
half or one quarter as much as we should. 



CHAPTER 11. 



eARLY in 1775, Mr. Foster began to make 
preparations for going to war. The idea 
that war might possibly be averted seemed never 
to have been entertained by him. The words of 
Patrick Henry had so enthused the people 
throughout the land, that the men would swfng 
their hats and exclaim, "Give me liberty or give 
me death." On the first day of February Mr. 
Foster gathered his family about him, and gave 
each an afifectionate farewell, and blessing; for 
he was a pious man. He then shouldered his 
musket and started on foot for Pioston. The 
family then consisted of Mrs. Foster and six 
vigorous, growing children. Elisha, the oldest, 
was eleven years old; Nathaniel, our hero, was 
nine; Zilpha, a girl of seven summers; destined 
in after years to play the most conspicuous 
part in an exciting adventure. The next young- 
est child was a daughter Ann, aged five. The 
next, a boy of three, bearing the ponderous 
name of Solomon; the youngest child was a 
cooing babe named Sylby, scarcely a year old. 
Mrs. Foster and these six children did not see 



Nat Foster. 17 

Mr. Foster again until the close of the war, (.ver 
seven years and ten months after he took iiis 
departure on that frosty February morning. 

All their earthly possessions at this time con- 
sisted of some ten acres of cleared land, one 
cow, a few sheep, two pigs, and a few fowls. 
And their struggle with poverty and actual 
want during the absence of the husband and 
father, was truly a gallant one. But let us 
leave them for a little, and follow the fortunes 
and experiences of the head of the family. The 
elder Foster's career in the war has such an im- 
portant and indisputable bearing and relation to 
the subsequent career of his family, particularly 
that of his son Nat, that we will devote this and 
the next tw^o chapters to an account of some of 
his adventures and experiences in the war. 
Journeying on foot he reached Concord the 
last of the month. As he plainly saw, the war 
was soon to break out; so he remained in the 
vicinity, exhorting and encouraging the minute 
men in their preparations for taking the field. 
In a couple of months after his arrival in Con- 
cord, he had the satisfaction of participating in 
the battle of Lexington, and firing his first shot 
at the Crown, as represented in the British 
troops that invaded Concord. He was in the 
thickest of the fight, and with other patriots, 



1 8 Life and Ad-T'cnturcs of 

poured his deadly fire from behind stone fences 
and trees, into the ranks of the royal troops as 
they retreated towards Boston. He received' 
two bullet holes in his clothes, and exultingly 
exclaimed as he discovered them, "I'll be able 
to fight a good many years if the red-coats only 
shoot cloth." 

He immediately repaired to Boston, and 
presenting himself to Col. Prescott, was as- 
signed by that officer to a prominent place 
among the patriot troops then throwing up in- 
trenchments oil Bunker Hill. His braverv, 
skill and enthusiasm at this battle, made him 
ever afterwards a favorite with the officers and 
men of the American Army who knew or heard 
of his conduct on the heights of Boston. He 
did much by his own coolness and presence of 
mind to further the efforts of Col. Prescott, 
who, it will be remembered, preserved order, 
and kept up the courage of the raw American 
soldiers by his own calmness and courage. 
When the ammunition gave out, and the British 
commenced to pour over the breast-works, 
Foster was the first to club his gun, and shout- 
ing "Give it to them, boys," commenced to club 
the red coated soldiers right and left. As we 
know, all the soldiers "clubbed" their muskets, 
and endeavored to resist efifectuallv the on- 



Nat Foster. 19 

coming British ; but it was a hopeless task. Fos- 
ter and the few remaining with him fled down a 
desperately steep place on the hill, and thus es- 
caped through the dust and smoke of the battle. 
Foster was promptly offered a captain's commis- 
sion in the Continental Army, as a reward for 
his conspicuously gallant conduct at this battle; 
but he declined the honor and responsibility. 

Washington having been appointed in charge 
of the army of the East, commenced to fortify 
the heights around Boston, and Gen. Howe 
moved the Royal troops in the vicinity to a 
greater distance from the toiling Yankees. His 
treatment at their hands at Bunker Hill seemed 
to have taught him a lesson, so that he now- 
appeared to have some little respect for the 
despised American pioneers. This movement 
on the part of the enemy was of course a sub- 
ject of conversation among the American 
soldiers, and Foster in one of his characteristic 
expressions said, "Let 'em go: Let 'em go to 
Halifax," a settlement in Canada. This expres- 
sion was taken up by the rest of the soldiers. 
It passed from mouth to mouth. Washington 
laughed as he heard of the apt way it was ex- 
pressed. It soon ])ecame a by-word in the 
army, and is now^ common property, "Go' to 
Halifax." 



20 Life and Adz'cnturcs of 

Foster seems to have been in the army under 
Gen. Putnam. At all events, he accompanied 
the American army to New York, and, at the 
head of forty picked men, harassed the Britons 
from behind the rocks at Harlem Heights, 
effectually protecting Washington's retreat to 
White Plains. Several of the enemies' bullets 
passed through his clothing again; and one 
grazed his left side, cutting the skin so that it 
bled profusely, and he was obliged to go to a 
surgeon. That officer put on his spectacles, and 
gravely examining it, remarked, "My good man, 
if it had gone a little closer it would have killed 
you." "Yes, yes," said Foster, in his indifferent 
manner, "and if it had only gone a little farther 
off it wouldn't have touched me." During 
Washington's retreat through New Jersey, Fos- 
ter was one of his trusted men. For his en- 
thusiasm, endurance and courage, he had no 
superior. Washington remarked that the en- 
thusiasm and devotion to the cause, of such men 
as Foster, gave him courage to continue the 
struggle against such great odds. And on one 
occasion he was heard to say that with ten thou- 
sand such men as Foster he could drive every 
British soldier from the American shores in 
short order. Foster was one of the picked men 
who preceded the army to the Delaware River, 



Nat Foster. 21 

and got boats in readiness to pass over. On the 
23rd of December, 1776, Washington was seen 
on his knees asking divine aid and guidance for 
the then almost hopeless cause of his country. 
On the same day he called a council of officers 
to consider the feasibility of attacking the Hes- 
sians encamped at Trenton. But few advised it, 
when Foster came forward, and offered the 
efficient aid of his "picked forty," and it was de- 
cided to undertake it. Foster returned to his 
companions, and telling them of the acceptance 
of their services, exclaimed, "Boys we'll have a 
Christmas dinner off from Trenton, or die in the 
attempt to get it." History tells us of Col. 
Rohl's surrender, the capture of a thousand 
Hessians, and the safe retreat of Washington and 
his army across the Delaware again. The battle 
of Trenton and its results roused the colonies 
from despondency. Foster, for his bravery and 
efficient services on this occasion was again 
offered a captain's commission. But he again 
declined the honor, and this time in words which 
effectually prevented the office being tendered 
him again; he said to the orderly who brought 
the message to him, "No, I came to fight the 
common enemy of our country, and I can do 
that better with a gun than with a sword; I'll 
stick to my gun." 



2 2 Life and Adventures of 

The following spring he was ordered with his 
"picked forty" up the Hudson to assist Gen. 
Gates. To him they rendered good service at 
the battle of Saratoga. Occupying a brow of a 
hill, they contributed materially to the success 
of the battle by their rapid and accurate firing. 
As the royal army retreated they were able from 
their position to pour a destructive fire into the 
ranks of the enemy. Every shot counted. Fos- 
ter's exhortation to his men as they took their 
position on the hill was, "Now bo}'s, don't waste 
a shot. Bring- down a red coat every time you 
fire." We all know^ the results of that battle. 
Gen. Burgoyne surrendered, and the Americans 
marched into his camp to the tune of "Yankee 
Doodle." It was at this battle that Arnold won 
laurels he ought to have worn; and if he had, 
his subsequent act of treason might not have oc- 
curred. 

Before participating in the battle of Saratoga, 
however, Foster and his forty *'dare devils." as 
they had come to be called, took a journey up 
the Mohawk ^^alley. They participated in the 
battle of Oriskany, having joined Gen. Herki- 
mer's minute men at Fort Dayton. They then 
started leisurely back to Saratoga, when they 
met the detachment headed by Arnold sent for 
the relief of Fort Stanwix. They joined them, 




Their ascent of a slight eminence. 



Nat Foster. 23 

and returned back over the ground they had 
twice gone over, past the bloody field of Oris- 
kany, and on to Fort Stanwix. Then they 
started on down the valley again. It appears 
that they traveled by themselves rather than 
with the regular troops. It was during his 
journeys up and down the Mohawk Valley at 
this time, that Foster saw so much of the dia- 
bolical acts of the Indians in slaying and scalp- 
ing the defenseless settlers, at the instigation of 
tl}e British, and which caused him on his 
return home, to instill into the minds of his sons 
such a hatred of the race. 

While he and his party w^ere returning down 
the valley from Fort Stanwix, as they came 
where Canajoharie now stands, then almost a 
wilderness, their ascent of a slight eminence 
brought to their view on the north an immense 
smoke rising from the tree-tops. Said Foster, 
'T guess some of the red devils are putting in 
their hellish work." Sure enough, as they pro- 
ceeded, they came in sight of a log cabin in 
flames, and an immense crowd of Indians 
around it. The little band of forty immediately 
prepared for a rush upon them. They crept 
cautiously forward under the cover of trees and 
bushes, until they could see plainly some two 
score of savages dancing about the cabin. They 



24 



Life and Adi'cnturcs of 



knew by their actions that there were people in 
the dwelhng, and they were waiting for them to 
come out from the blazing building, when they 
intended to set upon them, and slay and scalp 
them. 

"Attend to your priming, boys," said Foster, 
''We'll show the red cusses that the Yankees 
arn't all napping." He gave the word to fire, 
and instantly twelve Indians lay upon the 
ground in tneir death throes, and several were 
wounded. The Indians, though taken by sur- 
prise, rallied for resistance, and made for trees, 
from behind which they always fired. But be- 
fore half a dozen of them could reach the shelter 
of tree trunks, Foster's men fired another volley 
into them. It was effectual. All signs of a re- 
sistance disappeared with the Indians' disap- 
pearance in the woods. The brave little band 
of soldiers now rushed forward to the house, 
which was burning furiously. The door and 
windows they found barricaded. It was but the 
work of a moment to smash in the door with a 
small log which lay handy, and the inmates were 
dragged from the doomed cabin none too soon. 
They were a Mrs. Failing and her three small 
children. They had all been overcome by the 
smoke and heat, and were insensible when re- 
moved from the burning house, the mother 



Nat Foster. 25 

having been quite badly burned. Water 
brought from a neighboring spring in the hats 
of some of the men, and dashed in their faces, 
soon brought them to their senses. When they 
reahzed deHverance, their gratitude was beyond 
expression. The husband and father of the 
family was away fighting for liberty. Had this 
little band of patriots been but a few moments 
later in their arrival on the scene, his family 
would have been burned alive. The mother and 
children were taken to the nearest settlement, 
and placed among friends; Foster and his party 
remaining there for several days, fearing that 
the Indians might seek revenge by attacking 
the settlement. Word finally being brought 
them that a battle was likely to be fought very 
soon at Saratoga, they took leave of the settle- 
ment and the family they had saved, and push- 
ing on, poined tUe American army, rendering 
the efficient service from their position on the 
hill, as mentioned above. 

After Burgoyne's surrender it was feared that 
an attack would be made by the large number 
of Indians that the British had assembled, and 
a force of soldiers most familiar w4th the Indian 
mode of warfare, was dispatched in the direc- 
tion of Lake George, to disperse a horde of the 
savages reported to be there. Foster and his 
3 



2 6 Life and Adventures of 

forty were chosen, together with about thirty 
regular soldiers. Towards nightfall they sur- 
prised and dispersed a camp of about sevent}'- 
five Indians, as they were engaged in cooking 
their supper. The encounter was not at all a 
serious one, for the Indians at the approach of 
the detachment, stopped only to let drive a 
shower of bullets and arrows; and then turned 
and fled, leaving in the camp a quantity of guns, 
bows and arrows. As their fires were burning, 
the soldiers tarried at the camp long enough to 
cook rations for themselves, and rest a little be- 
fore returning to the army. Foster and his men 
quickly made the acquaintance of their new 
companions who had been detailed to accom.- 
pany them on the scout; and while seated 
around a fire eating their food, he gave their 
new friends some account of the experience of 
himself and his men up the valley. He related 
one after another of their adventures until he 
came to the incident of the burning house, and 
the rescue of the inmates. As he proceeded 
with the narration, one of the soldiers seated on 
a log opposite Foster, sprang to his feet, and 
seizing Foster in his arms, commenced to weep 
like a child. "That was my home, and those 
were my children," said he, ''how can I ever pa>' 
you for such a humane act?" "Pay me," said 



Nat Foster. 27 

Foster, "I would be worse than a heathen if I 
would not risk my own life, to save the lives of 
a man's wife and children from such a fate. 
But hold," he exclaimed, as Failing, who had 
regained his composure, was about to resume 
his seat on the log, "hold," repeated Foster, 
"Swear to me, swear, that you will kill every red 
devil you get a chance to." And with bared 
head and uplifted hand. Failing swore to 
prosecute a war of extermination against the 
red man. 

Foster now became very excited, and ve- 
hemently declared his hatred of the race. Ad- 
dressing the group of men before him he ex- 
claimed, "Boys, Fve seen enough of their 
fiendishness in our excursions up the valley, to 
make me and my children forever their en- 
emies." He then related how he had seen the 
soldiers scalped at Oriskany. How in one place 
they had come to a devasted home, with the 
women and children strewn about scalped and 
bearing witness to the use of the tomahawk. 
The worst and most repulsive sight of all was 
the body of a pregnant woman ripped open, and 
the infant mutilated. "That is what Fve seen," 
said he, "during the last few weeks, and can a 
man with a Christian heart allow such hounds 
of hell to go unpunished? No! The sight of 



28 Life and Adventures of 

a red skin kindles a fire in me I can't control, 
and which I don't want to either." In such a 
strain he continued talking for some time. His 
expressions of hatred of the British for exciting 
the Indians to hostility, was nearly as pro- 
nounced. Said he, "They are more to be des- 
pised than the Indians themselves. We'll lick 
the British, and then we can fight the Injuns, 
and when we are dead, our children will do the 
fighting for us." He declared he would teach 
his children to fear God, but not the face of clay. 
"Especially," he said, "the copper face of an 
Injun." Again can we see the reason his son 
Nat placed ,a low value on the life of any mem- 
ber of this unfortunate race with whom he came 
in contact, while threading his way among the 
forests of the Adirondacks. 



CHAPTER III. 



THE American army now went into winter 
quarters at Valley Forge, where the patriots 
bravely endured untold sufferings. It has been 
said of this particular winter that "These were 
the times which tried men's souls." The Patriot 
army was a mere handful of men compared to 
the British. The men were ragged and dis- 
heartened; many were barefooted. What 
American of the present generation is there, 
who has not seen from childhood illustrations 
of the pathetic scenes of Valley Forge? The 
members of the army had received no pay, and 
poor and scanty fare was their portion. The 
soldiers were inspired by a love for their country 
indeed. 

During this trying winter, Mr. Foster was 
the life and soul of his section of the camp. He 
was never idle or despondent. No doubt his 
being always busy at some kind of employment, 
was the secret of his cheerfulness. He was al- 
ways ready for a joke or a word of cheer. The 
horses of the army were being killed for food. 
He immediately set about and procured the 



30 Life and Adventures of 

hides for the purpose of making shoes for the 
soldiers. He tanned them in a rude manner; 
and with the assistance of some of his fellow- 
soldiers, he made a passable moccasin, very ac- 
ceptable to the barefooted men. It was while 
engaged in this occupation of cutting up hides 
and making shoes, that Washington, passing 
through the camp one day, and observing his 
industry and cheerful manner, uttered the re- 
mark referred to^ before; viz.: '*If I had ten 
thousand such men, I would drive every British 
soldier from the American shores in short or- 
der." One day provisions failed to be issued at 
all. Some stores had been expected, but were 
delayed many miles distant, the wagons being 
stuck fast in the mud The soldiers were dis- 
posed to grumble and swear at the state of 
afifairs. 

"Well, well boys," exclaimed the ever-cheerful 
Foster, ''we musn't starve, and we shan't. Hun- 
ger will drive a man through a stone wall, but 
we are not as bad ofif as that yet. I've got 
some scraps of horse hide left over from 
making shoes, and I guess it will make a soup 
for about ten or a dozen." The soup was made, 
and with a little ''johnny cake" left over from the 
day before, Foster and his mess ate it wAxh. a 
relish. 



Nat Foster. 31 

"There boys, ' said he, as the meal was fin- 
ished, ''that's pleasanter than marching twenty- 
five miles over a frozen road, especially if you've 
got a sore toe, to kick the frozen lumps with." 

This memorable winter, full of trials and 
sufiferings, finally passed away; and preparations 
were begun for an active campaign. After the 
battle of Monmouth, the army was busy pre- 
paring for the capture of Stony Point. Hearing 
of the massacre at Wyoming Valley, a detach- 
ment of four hundred men were sent to the 
scene. Foster and his "forty," now reduced to 
less than thirty, were among the first to arrive. 
The sight they saw of slaughtered men and 
mutilated women, before they reached the fort, 
sickened them. But what they saw when they 
got to the fort, destroyed their feelings of qualm- 
ishness, and roused their indignation and 
wrath. The fort had been the refuge for the 
inhabitants of the valley: and thus crowded with 
human beings it had been fired by the savage 
foe. The fire, though not destroying the 
stockade, had brought death to women and 
children. The soldiers of the garrison, aided by 
the men from among the refugees, had evident- 
ly fought both the fire and the enemy to the 
very last man. Dead men, shot, scalped, and 
tomahawked, were found evervwhere, both out- 



32 



Life and Adventures of 



side and inside the fort, out not one was alive 
to tell of the gallant resistance they must have 
made. 

But the most awful sight of all, was the 
charred bodies of the women and children, lying 
in a heap of ashes and smoldering timbers in 
the center of the fort. They had evidently 
taken refuge in the soldiers' barracks; and as the 
men were shot down and killed, were left de- 
fenceless to be literally roasted alive. The bodies 
lay heaped together like so many logs, and were 
burned be}^oiid recognition. Mr. Foster never 
forgot this scene. Ever afterwards, even in his 
old age, if he referred to it, it was with bitter, 
wrathy and denunciatory language. 

The winter c[uarters of 1779-80 were at Mor- 
ristown, N. J. The soldiers fared better than at 
Valley Forge, as they were better clothed, but 
provisions were scarce. A pint of corn was often 
the daily allowance per man; each mess put this 
together, and pounding it up in a stone mortar, 
they made a passable johnny cake. Occasion- 
ally a little meat would be issued, more often 
than not the flesh oi the horse. Towards spring 
potatoes were issued, being procured from the 
interior. These baked in hot ashes were a wel- 
come addition to the bill of fare. It was during 
one of Mr. Foster's excursions to the northern 



Nat Foster. 33 

part of New Jersey in search of supplies at tliis 
time, that he captured a horse which afterwards 
played an important part in connection with the 
pretended desertion of Sergeant John Champ, 
in an attempt to carry out the plans of Wash- 
ington and Lee for the capture of Arnold, after 
his treason. In one of their journeys in search 
of food, Foster and his men made their way to 
the home oi an old Tory named Piser. This 
man was known to smuggle provisions through 
the country to the Loyalists in New York City 
and Philadelphia, where they were sold tr, the. 
British. Foster had heard of this man, anci so 
this day, pushed on up the State until he ar- 
rived at his house. Leaving his companions in 
the yard, he boldly went to the front door of 
the spacious mansion, and demanded of the old 
darky who' answered his knock, to see the master. 
''Deed sah," said the darky, eyeing: the un- 
kempt and ragged patriot before him, "I reckon 
he don't see such as you." 

"He don't eh?" answered Foster, ''Well, you 
tell him to see me or FU see him, and mighty 
quick, too." 

Piser having heard the parley at the door, 
now came forward and mildly asked Foster what 
he wanted. 



34 



Life and Adventures of 



"To buy some provisions for the Continental 
army," was Foster's brief answer. 

"I haven't any provisions," answered Piser,. 
*'and besides," he continued, faUing into the 
whining tone characteristic of miserly men, 'Tf 
I had any you couldn't pay me for them." 

"Couldn't pay you for 'em," said Foster, "FU 
give you Continental money for 'em, and any 
patriot will take that. 

But still Piser asserted that ho had no stores 
about his place. 

''Now see here," said Foster, growing impa- 
tient, "you've got plenty of provisions on hand, 
and you know it. And if you don't trot 'em out,, 
me and my men '11 take 'em away." But still he 
declared he had none. 

"You can look and see, you can look and see,, 
but you will find nothing," said the old Tory. 

"Yes, we'll look and see, and we'll find some,, 
too," answered Foster, confidently. 

He returned to his waiting companions and 
they began a search of the barns, smoke house, 
and other out-buildings. But as Piser had told 
them, they found nothing. But there was an 
old block house a short distance from the other 
buildings, which had not been searched. It 
stood on a slight elevation of ground, and ap- 
parently was unused. After giving up the search 



Nat Foster. 



35 



in the barns, Foster proposed investigating this 
building. At this Piser, who had followed them 
about the place, assured them, in the most cour- 
teous tones, and voluminous language, that that 
was wholly unnecessary. The block house, he 
told them, had been built in the days when at- 
tacks from Indians were frequent, but had been 
unused for a number of years. There was noth- 
ing in it, he assured them. It was empty and 
locked. In fact, he told them, it had been pad- 
locked so many years that the fastenings had be- 
come rusted, and only the other day he had 
tried the key to it but it would not work, and 
he had let it go. 

"Oh, I assure you, sir," said he, addressing 
Foster, "there is not the slightest necessity of 
searching the block house." 

''Oh, no, I don't suppose there is a bit o' use," 
said Foster, at the same time slyly winking to 
his companions. "Howsoever we might just 
as well, though;" he added, "I'd kinder like to 
see how the old thing looks inside." 

Accordingly he led the way to the old weather 
beaten building and without troubling the owner 
for the key to the lock, which did not look so 
very rusty after all, they broke open the door 
with the butts of tneir muskets, when lo and 
behold, they found it filled with stores. There 



3^ Life and Adventures of 

were eight dressed hogs, evidently ready for 
shipment; and a large quantity of corn and 
potatoes already sacked, also ready for ship- 
ment. And in one corner, safely stalled, was an 
elegant black horse as the men had ever seen. 
The old Tory had prepared to convey the pro- 
visions to the river that very night, and with the 
cargo he was intending to send the black 
charger to Gen. Clinton of the British army. 

Further parlev was unnecessary. The men 
returned to the barns in search of something in 
w^hich to carry some of the stores away with 
them. They found two old carts, such as were 
then in use on many of the old colonial farms; 
the two wheels made from solid sections of wood 
sawed from a log, were placed at the center of 
a spacious box. The axle was hard maple. A 
rough pole or tongue made of a limb of a tree, 
extended from the forward end of the box to 
which the oxen were yoked. Although rude, 
these carts were very serviceable, and with pa- 
tient but sure pulling oxen, large loads could be 
drawn on them. There was but one pair of 
oxen about the place. These the men yoked 
and hitched to one cart, and trailing the other 
behind, returned to the block house where they 
loaded both with as much of the corn and pota- 
toes as could be piled on. Then placing four 




■ The old Tory was wild with rage.' 



Nat Foster. 37 

pigs on each load, "just to bind the loads/' as 
Foster explained to Piser, they were prepared to 
return to camp. 

The old Tory was wild with rage as he saw 
them removing his stuff and preparing to make 
off with it. He cursed them and the wdiole Con- 
tinental army, from Washington down. He 
cursed the spirit of independence which brought 
on the war, and he cursed those who were fight- 
ing to gain that independence. 

After Foster had stood it long enough he 
told the old man to "shut up," or he would make 
short work of him. And when a half a dozen of 
his comrades cocked their guns and pointed 
them at him, the warning was apparently too 
realistic, and he held his tongue, and remained 
as quiet as a Iamb. When they were ready to 
start, Foster turned to Piser and asked him if 
he would take Continental currency for his stuff. 

"No," shouted Piser, his rage bursting out 

again, "ril take none of your d d currency; 

it's no better than your d d government, 

which will be out of existence in a short time." 

"I reckon you'd think different if the light 
was a shinin' through your old carcass," said 
l^O'Ster. You're sO' pizenly mean I orter make 
it shine through ye right now. It would sarve 
you right. But seein' you're so mighty pat- 



38 Life and Adventures of 

riotic," he continued, assuming a sarcastic air, 
''I guess I'll let you go and take that black hoss 
instead." '']td&(\\3\\,'' said he, addressing one 
•of his party, "bring out the hoss." The noble 
steed was led out, amid the frantic protests of 
Piser, who swore vengeance upon them for this 
last act of taking the valuable horse. But no 
attention was paid to him. Putting their shoul- 
ders to the trailing cart and speaking a ''gee up" 
to the oxen they were off. 

It was the last they ever saw of the old Tory. 
He watched them go, driving his sleek oxen and 
leading his magnificent horse, bearing with 
them provisions that were to bring a square 
meal to many a hungry soldier fighting for the 
cause of Freedom. But no such thoughts filled 
his mind. Only the loss of his property and the 
disappointment of not receiving a few pounds 
of English money for it, was what occupied his 
small soul. Cursing and shaking his fist at them 
until they were out of sight, he returned to his 
house to brood over his ill luck, and growl at 
the spirit of liberty and freedom God had plant- 
ed in the hearts of his fellow man, if not in his. 

The arrival in camp of Foster and his men 
with such a bountiful supply of provisions, was 
hailed with delight. Although it was dark, fires 
were started, or those already burning made to 



Nat Foster. 



39 



blaze brightly. Potatoes were distributed, and 
a coiiple of the hogs cut up at once and passed 
around. All went to sleep that night with a 
full stomach, and a taste of fresh pork in tneir 
mouths. 

The handsome horse Foster brought into 
camp was at once a center of attraction. He was 
led up to one of the fires and examined and ad- 
mired. Foster explained and pointed out his 
good points. He declared that it was the sound- 
est, fleetest, easiest riding and most gentle 
"boss" ever raised in the Colonies. How he had 
discovered all this during the short time the 
horse had been in his possession, would be hard 
to explain. But it is to be presumed that he felt 
obliged to impress upon his fellow soldiers the 
superiority of this particular horse which he had 
captured from a detestable old Tor}^ 

''Why, boys," said he, addressing a fresh 
group of admirers, ''its jest like riding in a rock- 
ing chair, a riding him bareback; what must it 
be when he has got a saddle on?" When asked 
what he was going to do with the horse, he 
said, "Why give him to the major, of course," 
meaning Major Lee. So, after he had him- 
self partaken of a hearty meal of potatoes and 
pork, the former baked in hot ashes, and the 
latter toasted at the end of a ramrod, he made 



40 Life and Adrciitiircs of 

his way to the major's tent. Presenting himself 
to that officer, he told him in a brief manner of 
the clay's experiences, and ended by telling MaJ. 
Lee that he had brought the horse expressly for 
him. Without waiting for thanks he turned to 
go, when the major stopped him and said: 

"My good man, don't you want to join the 
Legion?" — ,a body of men immediately connected 
with Major Lee. 

''I'll do anything that will serve my country 
to the best advantage," was Foster's simple 
reply. 

"Then you are just the man I want," answered 
Major Lee, quickly, struck with the answer Fos- 
ter gave. "You may come to my tent to-mor- 
row night at eight o'clock and bring the horse 
with you," and added, "he may be of great 
service to us at once." 

Foster made respectful answer, replying that 
he would be on hand at the appointed hour, 
and withdrew. The next night at the hour ap- 
pointed by Major Lee, Foster repaired to the 
major's tent, leading his black horse. He had 
carefully groomed the animal, and had procured 
an old bridle and saddle for it; for he felt sure 
that Major Lee was going to assign him a duty 
which v.'ould demand his own use of the horse 
that night. Such proved to be the case. 



Nat Foster. 41 

Arriviiig at officers' headquarters, he tied the 
horse to a saph'ng, and approached the sentinel. 
As the guard chahenged him, a tall man with 
his face concealed by a cloak wrapped about his 
shoulders, spoke to the sentry, and Foster was 
allowed to pass. The stranger then beckoning 
to Foster, led the way intO' the officer's tent, 
where he threw off his cloak and revealed him- 
self in the garb of a common soldier with ser- 
geant's chevrons on his sleeves. The two men 
gazed at each other in mutual admiration. Both 
were types of perfect men, six feet tall and 
straight as arrows. It was the first meeting of 
Foster and Sergeant John Champ, though 
each had heard of the deeds of bravery and 
daring, and of the valor, of the other. Major 
Lee, at this moment, entered the apartment, and 
saluting him, the two stalwart patriots were 
seated. Major Lee then made known the plans 
of himself and Washington for the capture of 
Arnold, the traitor. We are all familiar with 
the details of Arnold's treason, who, to satisfy 
his feelings of revenge for not receiving proper 
rewards for his brave service at the battle of 
Saratoga, would have betrayed his country for 
a few thousand pounds of English money. Ver- 
bose and complete accounts of it are found in 
the various histories of the United .'states, 
4 



42 Life and Adventures of 

though, as usual, little justice is done to the fallen 
one, or for that matter, to any of the unsuc- 
cessful intriguers connected with the despicable 
plot. But it is not my place now to discuss the 
character or motives of Arnold, but to follow 
the adventures of the father of Nat Foster, in 
connection with the plans of Washington and 
Lee, for the capture of the traitor; and as I have 
not seen any detailed accounts of them in any 
of the histories of the United States, I will give 
them as they were told to me by a great-grand- 
son of the elder Foster. The plans were to have 
a trusted soldier desert to the British, and going 
to New York City, there lay plans for the cap- 
ture of Arnold and his return to the American 
lines. Sergeant John Champ was the man se- 
lected for this hazardous task; and it was to 
arrange for the initial step that the conference 
was now being held in Major Lee's tent. 
Champ had been previously made aware of the 
desperate work assigned to him, but Foster was 
still ignorant of any of it. 

Seating himself, Major Lee addressed both of 
the men before him thus: "My brave men, you 
have an important duty to perform. The plans 
of Washington and myself must be carried out, 
if possible. Since the treason of Arnold we 
hardly know whom to trust, either among the 



Nat Foster. 43 

officers or the men, but I feel safe in calling you 
two men to assist us in bringing the traitor to 
justice, and if this is accomplished Andre may 
be saved. Arnold must be captured at his quar- 
ters in New York. John Champ is to turn 
traitor, desert his friends and join the British .at 
their gun-boats down by the harbor. The time 
of his desertion is to be this evening at mid- 
night. He is to have, if possible, an hour and a 
half the start, before he is pursued by men who 
will think his desertion is sincere. And you, 
Foster," he continued, ''are to head the Legion 
and start after him. You must remember that 
they will all think he is a deserter, that he is fol- 
lowing the steps of Arnold, and the utmost cau- 
tion must be taken by you to keep the men so 
far behind him that pistol ball w^ill not reach 
him. Starting from here Champ wall ride to 
where the British ships are anchored, where he 
will dismount and swim out to them. The 
chase you will give will be observed by the Brit- 
ish, and Champ will be welcomed by them as a 
hero. He can then lay his plans for the captur- 
ing of Arnold." 

After the plans had been deliberated and 
talked over, until each of the gallant men per- 
fectly understood the part he was to play, they 
prepared to retire. Champ again wrapped him- 



44 



Life and Adventures of 



self in the cloak and passing the guard un- 
recognized, made his way through the darkness 
to his quarters. Foster also returned to iiis 
comrades, leaving the horse with Lee's servant 
to give color to the idea it had been presented 
and accepted. 

As midnight approached, Cliamp took stealthy 
leave of his sleeping companions, and made 
his ^^■ay to a nearby thicket, where a little sorrel 
marc was tied, already saddled and bridled. Un- 
fastening her he led her forth, mounted and 
started. The inside guards were passed in 
safety. Then starting his steed into a gallop, he 
rode rapidly towards the outposts. On the cor- 
ner of a projecting rock stood a sentinel. As 
the horseman approached, there rang out on 
the clear night air the challenge: ''Halt! — Who 
comes there?" The aproaching horseman made 
no reply. Again the challenge was repeated, 
and again no reply. Still again the guard chal- 
lenged, but on came the deserter, and crack 
went the guard's rifle as the brave sergeant 
passed by; a button was torn from his coat, so 
close did the sentinel fire. But still he dashed 
on and in another instant, ere the guard had 
time to reload his flint-lock, he had disappeared 
in the darkness. 

The faithful picket immediately called for the 



Nat Foster. 45 

corporal of the guard, and reported the affair 
to him, telHng him, that from the man's actions 
and his daring conduct, he beheved that it was 
no less a person than Sergeant Champ, and that 
he beheved he was deserting to the British. The 
corporal immediately reported to the officer of 
the day what the picket had told him, and that 
officer hastened to Lee's tent with pale face and 
bated breath. Lee had lain down. Answering 
his servant's summons, he arose and met the 
captain. 

"Major," exclaimed the excited captain, for- 
getting in his excitement to salute, "a soldier 
has passed the pickets and gone to the enemy." 

Lee first reminded the captain of his breach 
of etiquette, and then told him that the thing- 
he reported must be a mistake. "There can not 
be," he said, "another Arnold among my men; 
impossible, sir." 

"Yes it is, sir," answered the captain, "Ser- 
geant Champ, the bravest man among us, has 
passed the lines on a horse and deserted to the 
enemy." "I don't believe it," answered Major 
Lee, "there must be a mistake somewhere. Go 
back and investigate it, and don't disturb me, 
for I wish to sleep." But the persistent captain 
was not to be put off. i say. Major," he said, 
getting excited and impatient, "we are sure it 



46 Life and Adventures of 

was Sergeant Champ. He was on a horse, and 
going towards Paulus Hook. He paid no at- 
tention to the challenges of the picket, but 
seemed determined to pass." But again Major 
Lee said there must be some mistake. "I don't 
believe Champ would desert," said he, "leave 
me, for I want to get some rest and sleep after 
my hard ride of yesterday." And with this in- 
junction Lee turned to go to his apartments. 
But the faithful captain would not be put off by 
even this; and so, after considerable delay, Lee 
gave orders to call the Legion together, and 
sent an orderly for Foster. The Legion assem- 
bled and Foster, putting in his appearance, Lee 
summoned him before the troopers. He told 
him that he, knowing the roads, was to lead the 
Legion in pursuit and gave him the black horse 
to ride, saying it was a good horse and Foster 
having captured and presented it to him, might 
have the honor of riding him first. When they 
were all ready to start, Lee shook his head 
doubtingly and again declared that he did not 
believe that it was possible that Champ could 
have deserted. Detaining the Legion again, he 
dispatched a messenger to Champ's quarters 
under pretense of making sure that he had really 
left the camp. While the messenger was gone 
Lee called Foster into his tent, and again went 



Nat Foster. 47 

o\'er with him the part he was to play in the 
ruse. Foster was to detain the troopers on the 
road as much as possible without causing sus- 
picion. "Champ must not be overtaken," said 
Lee, "ride as near to him as is expedient, but 
for God's sake, and for the cause of our coun- 
try, don't overtake him." Foster assured Lee 
that he would do his utmost to make the affair 
appear as it was intended that it should; while 
at the same time he would protect the life of 
Champ. They returned to the waiting men, 
who were in their saddles, anxious to be off. 
The orderly had returned, and now reported to 
Major Lee that Champ was missing from his 
place, and had undoubtedly deserted. Lee 
seemed satisfied at this report and convinced 
that Champ had deserted, he now seemed 
anxious that he be captured. He appeared so 
anxious that he detained the Legion another 
twenty minutes, giving further directions and 
suggestions as to the probable route taken by 
the deserter, and the course the Legion was to 
follow^ in pursuit of him. 

At last all was ready, and at a few minutes 
past one o'clock, as long as he could well de- 
tain them, Lee saw the dragoons gallop ofif in 
hot haste after the supposed traitor. He re- 
turned to his couch and laid down, but not to 



48 Life and Adventures of 

sleep. His bravery and coolness on the battle- 
field could not be equaled, but the suspense he 
was now in was of a different nature. One of his 
bravest men was being pursued by his own 
comrades. They in their ignorance believing 
him to be a traitor, when in reality, no truer 
heart ever beat for the cause of American liberty. 



CHAPTER IV. 



BUT what of Champ and his pursuers? The 
former was mounted on a horse selected by 
Major Lee himself for its fleetness and endur- 
ance. But it was a little too light for a long and 
hard ride. He galloped easily along through 
the darkness, while behind him, but an hour's 
time between them, thundered the Legion in 
hot pursuit. They had gone through a number 
of small hamlets during the darkness, and as 
day dawned they were l>ut a few miles north of 
the village of Bergen. As they came to the top 
of the hill they sighted Champ but three-fourths 
of a mile down the road, urging his little mare 
to the top of her speed. They set up a shout 
as they caught sight of him and clattered down 
the hill, feeling sure of capturing him at once, 
l)ut he reached the top of an opposite hill and 
disappeared over the brow with all the speed 
imaginable. 

On dashed the Legion, Foster on his black 
charger in the lead. They quickly covered the 
mile of road and reaching the top of the hill 
again saw Champ, rapidly approaching the vil- 



50 Life and Adventures of 

lage. Foster, by reason of his repeated excur- 
sions about the State, was famiUar with the 
roads. He knew that if Champ could pass safely 
through the village, and cross a bridge at the 
outskirts, with but five minutes ahead of the 
Legion, he could successfully reach the' shore 
opposite where the ships were probably an- 
chored. He would then be safe from the in- 
furiated members of the Legion, who were now 
spurring their horses to their utmost efforts, 
and were angrily declaring that they would 
shoot the traitor when they came within range 
of him, if he would not stop at their commands. 
"This," said Foster in after years, when re- 
lating the tale to his family, ''was the most try- 
ing experience of my life. My companions, be- 
lieving that Champ was .a traitor, were intent 
on either capturing or shooting him. How to 
prevent it, and give him the necessary start from 
the bridge, was what now occupied my mind 
with the liveliest kind of speculations and plans." 
As he rapidly revolved different schemes in his 
mind, he recollected that a short distance ahead 
a road branched off from the main one and con- 
nected with another, that joined the main road 
just below the bridge. By taking this they 
would go around the village while Champ would 
have a straight course through the town. He 



Nat Foster. 51 

instantly resolved to throw his party tempo- 
rarily off the track oy taking this side road. 

Accordingly as they came to it Foster reigned 
his black charger, which all the while had kept 
in the lead, into this side road; and the whole 
party followed. Not until they had gone quite 
a distance did any of the party discover the mis- 
take. They halted and Foster, parleying with 
them as long as possible, finally persuaded them 
that it was the best plan to keep to the road 
they were on; and by doing so they might suc- 
ceed in heading Champ off at the bridge. To 
this they finally agreed and started off again, 
eager to reach the bridge .and capture the flee- 
ing traitor. They came nearer capturing him 
than Foster had intended they should. As they 
neared the main road again below the village 
they caught sight of Champ riding furiously to- 
wards the bridge. The men of the Legion urged 
their steeds to their utmost; but lost sight of 
him as a hill hid the main road trom them. 
Again they sighted him, and he was very near 
the bridge. With shouts of anger and yells to 
halt, they plunged their spurs into their horses' 
flanks, and made a final dash to head him off. 
Again a friendly hill hid him from their view, 
and from their pistols too, for they were pre- 
paring to fire. A moment later the clatter of 



52 



Life and Adventures of 



his horse's hoofs on the bridge told them of his 
successful escape. With yells of enraged dis- 
appointment they dashed around the foot of the 
hill and on to the main road only to see Champ 
dashing" away beyond the range of their pistols. 
They were now in sight of the harbor, and of the 
ships anchored a few rods from the shore. There 
was yet a possibility of overhauling him before 
he reached the shore, and they dashed on. 

This finale of the chase was as successfully 
deceptive to the British on board the man of 
war, who were now watching the chase, as if 
every member of the pursuing party were aware 
of its true character. Foster, on his powerful 
black horse, led them furiously on, while Champ 
urged his nearly exhausted steed to a fearful 
gallop. Pistols were discharged at the fleeing 
sergeant, with hoarse shouts from the pur- 
suers for him to halt or die. 

On board the ships, the gunwales were lined 
with officers, while the British tars swarmed like 
rats up the rigging to observe the exciting chase. 
They soon perceived that the man on the sorrel 
horse was making for the ships, and that the 
party headed by the large man on the hand- 
some black horse were eager to prevent it. So 
they cheered the fleeing man lustily, while the 
pursuers shouted back defiance and wrath. 



Nat Foster. 53 

Riding to the shore opposite the ships, Champ 
dismounted, hastily pulled off his heavy riding 
boots, and taking his sword in his teeth and his 
pistol in his hand, plunged into the river and 
struck out boldly for the ships. Even then, the 
members of the Legion thought to prevent his 
supposed desertion by his death. Riding up to 
the bank, they discharged their pistols at him 
as he swam. Fortunately for hmi, those hardy 
men did not have their muskets with them, for 
if they had he certainly would have been riddled 
with bullets. As it was, the water was splashed 
up all around him as the bullets struck its sur- 
face. But the men, not being used to pistols, 
fired very inaccurately, or otherwise the plucky 
sergeant would certainly have been killed. Fos- 
ter, of course, fired wide of the mark. The Brit- 
ish on the ships sent up a mighty shout of ap- 
proval as Champ plunged into the river and 
struck out for the vessels. And when his pur- 
suers began to fire at him, some of the ofBcers 
hastily manned a gun to drive them back and 
protect the swimmer. One shot from the can- 
non sent them in haste from the bank to a safer 
place. There, wath disappointment and chagrin, 
they watched until Champ reached the side of 
the nearest ship; a rope was thrown him and 
he was drawn on board, amidst the cheers of 



54 Life and Adventures of 

the officers and crews. Then they turned about 
and rode their well-nigh exhausted steeds to the 
village, where they stopped for a few hours' 
rest before the return to the army. The men 
of the Legion uttered many bitter expressions 
of surprise and denunciation at Champ's un- 
expected desertion. So good, so brave and ap- 
parently so true a man they never expected 
would be guilty of such detestable conduct as 
deserting to the enemy; yet he had, and they 
branded him a fit subject for the gibbet. And 
all agreed if ever he was captured, that that 
fate awaited him. 

The magnificent black horse which had car- 
ried Foster at the very forefront of the party 
during the long and furious chase, had become 
slightly lamed by an injury to the frog of one 
oi his forward feet; and under the pretense of 
giving the horse a longer rest, Foster remained 
in the village while the Legion returned to 
camp. What Foster really wanted was an op- 
portunity to go down to the harbor that night 
and look for a message Champ had agreed to 
throw overboard at flood tide, if he could do so 
unobserved. When night came on Foster made 
his way to the shore opposite the ships. The 
moon was just rising and cast its pale beams on 
the rippling waves, as the tide forced them up 



Nat Foster. 55 

the sloping bank. The ships, silent and majes- 
tic, rode at anchor at the same places they oc- 
cupied in the morning. Foster walked down to 
the bank and seating himself, waited patiently 
for an hour, watching intently the water and 
waves along the shore. 

Soon after he took his position on the shore 
he had heard a splash in the water as if some- 
thing had been dropped overboard. But he had 
almost given up anything coming of it when he 
espied dancing on the little waves a few yards 
out a bit of firewood. Something of this kind 
was what he had been watcUmg for, and he 
hastened to get it with the aid of a long pole. 
As he expected there was fastened to it a note 
addressed to Major Lee, in the handwriting of 
Champ. Placing the note in his bosom, he 
mounted his trusty horse and galloped away 
through the night to the camp of Major Lee. 
He willingly submitted to arrest by the sentinel 
on the outposts, and when brought before the 
officer of the day, he was sent at once to Major 
Lee, according to previous instructions from 
headquarters. He then delivered the note from 
Champ, and waited in silence while Lee eagerly 
read it. ''So far, so good," remarked Lee, as he 
finished its contents. 

Champ had been received by the British as 



56 Life and Adventures of 

a hero. In his note he said he had been the Hon 
of the ship that day. During the few hours he 
had been aboard, he had learned that Arnold 
was to be put in command of a regiment of Loy- 
alists, which was being raised in New York 
City, and that he was sojourning there now. 
Champ had decided to enlist in this regiment in 
order to further his plans for capturing the trai- 
tor. The ship's commander had promised to 
put him ashore next day, with a note of 
recommendation to Arnold. This would aid 
him in getting into the conf!d«'nce of the traitor, 
and bring him in personal contact with the very 
man he wished to lay his hands on. He closed 
his note with the request that Foster be allowe-l 
on the following night to go to a certain spot 
on the North river, about where Hoboken is now- 
situated. There he would endeavor to com- 
municate with him again. 

''Now, my good man," said Lee, as he fin- 
ished telling Foster of what the note contained, 
"all depends on his actions during the next few 
days. This man Andre, who was captured with 
Arnold's papers in his boots, may be saved, if 
Champ is successful in capturing Arnold. I 
will now give you a pass which will take you 
through the lines at any hour of the day or 
night." Receiving the pass, Foster withdrew 



Nat Foster. 57 

and went to^ his own quarters, where, after satis- 
fying his hunger, he gave himself up to rest and 
skimber until mid-day. Then he arose and 
prepared to go to Hoboken. 

Mounting the black horse, which had recov- 
ered from his lameness, he rode to the outposts, 
and showing his pass, started off down the high- 
way for Hoboken. His ride was far different 
from the furious one he had taken less than 
forty-eight hours before. Then he galloped 
madly at the head of a party of angry men, 
plunging through the darkness, all but himself 
intent on capturing or shooting the traitor. 
Champ. Now he allowed his steed to canter 
easily along, observing with pleasing mood the 
beauties of the scenery presented by the sur- 
rounding country, which was just beginning to 
be tinged with the beauties of the autumal sea- 
son. As he passed by the place where Champ 
had dismounted the day before and made his 
escape to the ships, he observed that they had 
weighed anchor and were gone. This pleased 
him. They had undoubtedly landed Champ and 
anchored farther out in the harbor. And on 
reaching the place Champ had told him to wait, 
what was his surprise to find the man-of-war 
securely riding at anchor, only a few rods from 
the very bluff Champ had designated as the 
meeting place. 
5 



^8 Life and Adventures of 

What to do he did not know. But conclud- 
ing to hold his position according to directions, 
he concealed his horse in a clump of trees and 
bushes, and as darkness settled over the river 
seated himself under the shadow of a huge rock 
and waited. 

The nearness of the man-of-war made him 
fear that Champ would not dare to row to that 
point. Yet he hoped that as the darkness came 
on, he might. The ships were so near that he 
was obliged to exercise caution in concealing 
himself from any possible observers on the 
decks; while he couicl easily hear the voices of 
the sailors as they told their stories and sang 
their songs on the forward decks. He had 
watched and waited scarcely an hour, however, 
when he saw by the dim rays of the rising moon, 
a row boat propelled by a single oarsman, com- 
ing towards the blulTf. The occupant was evi- 
dently a fisherman, for he was clad in a tar hat 
and oil coat. Several small nets suspended from 
poles, together with some fishing rods, hung 
over the bow of the skifT. The rower guided 
his boat under the very shadows of the frown- 
ing men-of-war, and coming to within a few 
rods of the blufif on which Foster was seated, 
dropped anchor and commenced to fish. And 
to an ordinarv observer he did fish. But al- 



A^fl^ Foster. 59 

though he cast industriously, he hooked nothing. 
Foster from his seat by the rock, sooii discov- 
ered that the fisherman was evidently trying to 
cast his line on the shore instead of in the water; 
and what was more peculiar, there seemed to be 
an unusual kind of bait on the hook. Champ 
(for it was he) had disguised himself and his 
actions so well that even Foster had failed to 
recognize him. Surmising now^ that it \vas 
Champ, Foster gave a slight cough, which was 
instantly answered by the occupant of the boat. 

''Hist, cast a little farther," muttered Foster, 
under his breath. 

Champ heard him and casting a little farther, 
landed, almost at Foster's feet, a small packet of 
paper fastened to the end of his line. Detach- 
ing it and casting the line into the water, Foster 
stole away in the darkness, leaving Champ to 
confirm the deception he was practicing upon 
the British in the ships, by really fishing for half 
an hour before returning to the New York 
shore. 

Long before a streak of day had appeared, 
Foster had delivered the note to Lee. It stated 
that Champ had seen Arnold and presented the 
note from the naval commander. Arnold seemed 
pleased to meet him, and had promised to give 
him an important position in his regiment, when 



6o Life and Adventures of 

they went south. After registering, Champ had 
been given his Hberty; and he had improved it 
by finding the whereabouts of Arnold's lodgings. 
They were situated on the bank of the North 
river, and by interviewing an old darky servant 
of the place, he had learned that in the cool of 
the evening before he had retired for the night,. 
Arnold was in the habit of walking in the gar- 
den of the place, which went down to the water's. 
edge. Champ immediately conceived the idea 
of seizing Arnold some dark night as he was 
thus taking his evening promenade, and bund- 
ling him into a boat, convey him to a party 
waiting across the river. 

All of these facts and plans Champ transmit- 
ted in his note to Lee. This was the first of 
several notes Champ sent to his commander by 
Foster, all of them cast ashore on a fish line and 
under the very nose of British gunboats. They 
would be most interesting and valuable now, if 
they had been preserved and could be given 
verbatim, but as far as we know they were not 
saved and we have only the traditions in the 
Foster family to depend on for their contents. 
Foster was on hand at the bluff the next night, 
and for several nights afterwards. Each time^ 
under the guise of a fisherman, Champ rowed 
across the river under the prows of the men-of- 



Nat Foster. 6r 

war, and cast his communication to the waiting 
Foster. 

Finally Champ gave the information that his 
plans were nearly matured, and asked that a 
posse be in waiting the next night, to receive 
the traitor he was now sure of capturing. 

His plans as outlined in his various notes to 
Lee, are most interesting; and, if the traditions 
concerning them have beeen correctly preserved 
by the Fosters, are valuable additions to our 
histories of the war of the Revolution. They 
are to the effect that Champ made the acquaint- 
ance of a lady admirer of Major Andre, a sweet- 
heart in fact. To her Champ made known his 
real character and his mission to capture and re- 
turn to the American lines the traitor Arnold; 
telling her that if this was accomplished, he 
whom she admired and loved might be saved 
from the death of a spy. She, of course, in- 
stantly consented to aid him with all of her 
powTr, and soon enlisted in her services her 
colored male servant and a white man who was 
secretly a patriot. 

Their plans were well laid, and on the night 
on which Champ had asked Lee to send a posse 
with Foster to Hoboken, they were to seize and 
gag Arnold as he took his usual walk in his 
garden, and hustling him into a skif¥, were to 



62 Life and Adventures of 

row him across the river to the American army. 
Acting upon the request of Champ, Lee selected 
five trusted men, swore them to secrecy, and 
then revealed to them the plan, and sent them 
with Foster to the position designated by 
Champ, which was about a quarter of a mile 
north of the bluff he had been occupying for 
the past few nights. 

All night long this little party watched up and 
down the river at Hoboken. The men-of-war 
had changed their positions, and anchored a 
mile away, lower down the harbor, so they were 
no longer to be feared. Yet the brave sergeant 
and his coveted prize did not appear. What 
could keep him? Had his plans failed? Had he 
been unsuccessful in his endeavors to capture 
Arnold? These and other like questions Foster 
and his companions asked each other the whole 
night long, as they patroled the shore and 
watched the river in the darkness. As day be- 
gan to dawn they were forced to abandon all 
hope and concluded that Champ, in his attempt 
to seize the traitor, had been resisted and killed. 
Disappointed and disheartened, Foster and his 
companions returned to their camp. 

What was the matter? That very day on 
which Champ had completed his well laid plans, 
and was waiting only for the night to carry 



Nat Foster. 6-^ 

them out, Arnold had been ordered to prepare 
to go with his regiment of Loyahsts tO' Virginia, 
and so did not go to his lodgings that night, 
but remained at the quarters of his regiment. 
Champ having enlisted in the same regiment, 
was obliged to remain at the barracks too; so 
that he could not even row out on his nightly 
fishing excursion and apprise the waiting and 
expectant party of the failure of his plans. 

Had the order for Arnold's movement south 
been delayed but twenty-four hours, the traitor, 
in all probability, would have been captured, 
and he, instead of Andre, would have been 
hung, and that portion of our country's history 
changed completely. 

During the time Champ was in the British 
lines it was not believed that he was suspected 
of acting the part of a spy by either the British 
or by his former comrades in the American 
army. They both believed him sincere. He 
was obliged to accompany Arnold's regiment 
to Virginia, but at the very first opportunity de- 
serted and made his way to Major Lee's corps, 
which was then in the vicinity. 

As he entered the lines he was greeted with 
jeers and hisses, and finally was arrested and 
marched off to headquarters. Foster was ' 
standing in front of Lee's tent as Champ was 



64 Life and Adrcntiircs of 

brought in. "My God," he exclaimed, as he 
caught sight of Champ between the guards, "I 
thought you lost or dead. 

It was an affecting scene. The two stalwart 
men embracing each other with tears in their 
eyes; and as they stood there clasping each 
other's hands, they heard a noise at the tent door 
behind them. Turning they saw Major Lee ap- 
proaching; again they saluted him together as 
they had done many months before. After ac- 
knowledging the graceful courtesy, Lee ad- 
vanced and grasping Champ by both hands, 
welcomed him with tears streaming down his 
face. Not until this spectacle afforded them, 
did the guards and others standing about (many 
of whom figured in the exciting pursuit of 
Champ) suspect the true character and import 
of his desertion on that memorable night. Now 
they realized that it was some secret work that 
he had gone to do, and many a coat sleeve was 
drawn across the eyes as the hardy men recol- 
lected their angry chase and denunciatory ex- 
pressions of opinion of him afterwards. They 
now crowded about the brave sergeant with 
greetings and apologies, extended in their rough 
but thoroughly sincere manner. 



CHAPTER V. 



LET us now return to that humble home in 
Hindsdale, New Hampshire, and see what 
was going on there while the husband and 
father was passing through the exciting scenes 
and incidents of the war, and enduring the pri- 
vations and destitutions of the seven years' 
struggle for liberty. They lacked but little of 
being as hard at home and among the mem- 
bers of that patriotic family, as were the ex- 
periences of the loved one who was absent. 

It will be remembered that Mr. Foster left for 
the seat of war on the first of February. Fie 
had seen to it that they were well supplied with 
food and fuel, enough to last them until spring. 
He had worked up a huge pile of wood, and 
corded it near the cabin, while corned and cured 
meat, such as pork, venison, and bear meat, 
enough for the winter, had been provided in the 
fall, so they lived fairly well. As the spring ap- 
proached, Mrs. Foster began preparations to till 
the soil as best she could in the absence of her 
husband. 



66 Life and Adventures of 

There were but few men in the whole town- 
ship. The majority of them being away to war. 
All of the Tories, with the exception of the Wil- 
son family, had removed to Boston. The few 
men that were left, however, generously gave 
such aid as they could to the families of the 
absent patriots. All but Wilson; he was still 
bitter against the cause of the Colonies: And 
"Billy" Wilson (as the people of the township 
called him) was anything but beloved by them. 
A kind neighbor of Mrs. Foster plowed her 
land. And with her own hands she planted the 
seeds. Corn and flax were sown, and potatoes 
planted. The older children worked with a will, 
and with the aid of their half-grown strength, 
she looked after the crops faithfully during the 
summer, harvesting them in good shape in the 
fall. 

Elisha and Nat trapped and hunted inces- 
santly. But their great drawback was the need 
of a good gun to shoot with. Their father owned 
two guns, but had taken the best one with him. 
The remaining one the boys would carry into 
the woods, and although unable to shoot with- 
out a rest, they would often be successful in 
bagging small game. The gun being a smooth 
bore, could not bring down any of the larger 
game they often had the opportunity of shoot- 



A' at Foster. 61 

ing. This, as can be readily imagined, was a 
great irritation to the boys, particularly when 
they would see a noble moose or deeer stalking 
serenely by them beyond the reach of their 
buckshot. 

When, at length, they encountered a panther 
in a tall sycamore tree, and failed to bring it 
down with repeated shots from their smooth 
bore, their indignation knew no bounds. They 
immediately went to the tow-n store, two miles 
away, and, manlike, contracted w^ith the pro- 
prietor of the store for a rifle, to be paid for from 
the pelts and skins of such animals as they 
might shoot or trap. The boys obtained their 
precious gun by the middle of the summer, and 
then the deer, moose and other large game be- 
gan to sufifer. Even though they had not the 
strength of manhood, their marksmanship was 
accurate. Young Nat, who was but nine years 
old, was even a better shot than Elisha, who was 
two years his senior. And though he could not 
fire either gun without the recoil knocking him 
over, still he never failed to bring down his 
game. They soon had enough wild meat corned 
and cured to last them through the approach- 
ing winter. And this, with the successful har- 
vesting of the crops, put all fears of a lack of 
food from Mrs. Foster's mind. But what s^ave 



68 Life and Adventures of 

her the greatest anxiety, was the question of 
clothing for her children. Their large flock of 
sheep had been sadly depleted by the depreda- 
tions of the Indians before Mr. Foster went 
away; and the wool from the three or four re- 
maining ones would not furnish enough mate- 
rial for socks for the family, to say nothing of 
shirts, trowsers and jackets for the boys, and 
dresses and petticoats for the girls. Her only 
resource was to rough linen, made from the 
flax she had grown. This she had cultivated 
with great care, and safely harvested it. So 
working it up from the rough, by the laborious 
-process of pounding, carding, spinning, and 
weaving, she made passable clothing for her 
brood of little ones. 

As the autumn came, the boys turned their 
attention to the working up of a supply of win- 
ter's wood. They would go into the woods and 
chop down immense trees, and hitching their 
ox team to the logs, drag them to the cabin, 
where Mrs. Foster, herself, would aid them in 
splitting and chopping them into sections of the 
proper size for burning in their one fire place. 
But although they prepared an immense amoimt 
of wood, before the winter was half gone, their 
supply was exhausted. Then the boys, in the 
midst of the cold and stormv weather, would 



Nat Foster. 69. 

work from day to day at wood chopping. In 
this occupation they resorted to a device for 
keeping their feet warm, which was both unique 
and original, and also shows their unprotected 
condition. They had no socks to protect their 
feet from the cold, only rude moccasins made 
by themselves from deerskin. So in order to 
keep their feet warm, and permit them to work 
at their wood chopping, without losing time to 
go beside the fire to get warm, they split a 
beech log into sections, five or six inches in 
thickness. Then hewing them down smooth 
with an ax, they would place them by the fire 
and heat them as much as possible without 
igniting them. To the choppers' yard one of 
the boys would then run out with one of the 
heated blocks and placing it on the chips, the 
one chopping would stand upon it while he 
worked. As it became cold, it would be re- 
placed with one fresh from the fireplace. In 
this manner the boys worked on day after day, 
until gentle spring came again, and released 
them from their struggle with the cold. It is 
needless to say that after this experience the 
boys always laid in wood enough to last through 
the entire winter. 

As each season came and went the children 
increased in size and strength, doing each year 



70 Life and Adventures of 

a greater amount of work for the common wel- 
fare of the family. 1 iie boys early attained their 
growth. Iheir muscles were knit into sinews 
of iron by tlieir sturdy labor in field and wood, 
and by the time Elisha and Nat were fourteen 
or fifteen years of age, they easily did the work 
of men. 

Many and varied were the experiences and 
adventures of these boys. Together they were 
the ''head of the famuy in the matter of work- 
ing the farm and otherwise providing for the 
Avants of all. 

It was one summer day during the second 
year of their father's absence that they had their 
first and last serious difficulty with Indians. 
Previously they had been frequently visited by 
wandering red men, who would apply for some- 
thing to eat, always helping themselves, if what 
was oiTered them was not satisfactory. They 
often carried away with them a considerable 
quantity of the family's supply of provisions, 
and there being no men around they were never 
resisted. They often compelled the boys to turn 
their grindstone for them to sharpen their knives 
and tomahawks, occasionally amusing them- 
selves by threatening to tomahawk and scalp 
them. They would take hold of one of the 
children, and encircling its head with the back 



Nat Foster. 71 

of a knife (after the manner of scalping) would 
show the trembling children how the thing was 
done. 

On the occasion mentionea, a party of ten In- 
dians came to the cabin and demanded venison 
and "fire water." The latter they did not have, 
but of the former, Mrs. Foster gave them a 
large piece she had already cooked for the 
household. They did not seem at all disposed 
to hurry away, but made themselves at home, 
making a meal of the haunch of venison and 
some corn bread Mrs. Foster had in the house. 
Elisha and Nat viewed these proceedings with 
ill-concealed contempt, and when they dis- 
patched Nat to a spring to fill their jug with 
water, he went only out of sight of the cabin and 
filled it from a stagnant frog pond. While he 
was absent the Indians began to ransack the 
cabin for the barrels of venison they knew must 
be about, but also collecting whatever met their 
fancy. Elisha, whose indignation now kiiew no 
bounds, met Nat on his return and informed 
him of the Indians' doings. He, of course, be- 
came as mad as Elisha, and together they hur- 
ried to the cabin, determined to do something 
to stop the lawless proceedings. Going to the 
chief they commenced their angry protests. He 
paid no attention to their vehement language, 



72 ' Life and Adventures of 

however, but reaching out his hand, took the 
jug of water Nat had brought and placing it to 
his mouth, proceeded to take a long and deep 
draught. One gurgle of the foul water down his 
throat roused his wrath. Setting the jug down, 
he uttered a command in his own dialect to the 
others, and they seized Nat, bound him, 
dragged him from the cabin, and fastened him 
to a tree. Then brandishmg their tomahawks, 
they danced about the fettered youth, who re- 
mained as stolid as one of their own chiefs in a 
war council. 

But consternation filled the rest of the family. 
With a scream of terror, Mrs. Foster threw her- 
self on her knees before the chief and besought 
him to spare her boy. He, still thinking of the 
undiscovered venison, told her he would re- 
lease the boy for a gooci supply of that article. 
"Take it," said Mrs. Foster, "take everything, 
only spare my boy." She led the w^ay to an 
outer cellar behind the cabin where the venison 
was concealed, and allowed them to help them- 
selves. After doing so and nearly emptying a 
whole barrel in the process, they gathered up 
the clothing and blankets of skin they had col- 
lected and took their departure, leaving Nat 
still tied to the tree. He was released from his 
position by Elisha, and together the angry and 



Nat Foster. 73 

incautious lads would Iiave set out after the In- 
dians with their guns if not restrained by their 
mother. Nat was so angered that he declared 
an Indian would never lay hands on him again 
and live ; a threat wliich he fully verified in after 
life. 

When chided by his mother for bringing stag- 
nant water instead of fresh spring water to the 
Indians, and reminded by her of the nearly fatal 
results of his doing so, he declared that he did 
not care, that "frog water was good enough for 
the Injun whelps." 

During the same summer, after this trouble 
with the Indians, the boys had a serious en- 
counter with an old female panther. It hap- 
pened in this wise. A bear was seen to cross 
the clearing surrounding the cabin one morn- 
ing and disappear in the woods. They imme- 
diately abandoned the work they were engaged 
in, got their guns and started in pursuit. As 
the bear had a considerable start in the woods, 
they were obliged to follow him by trail. Fol- 
lowing it quite a distance they observed, as they 
supposed, that the bear had suddenly changed 
its course, and started ofT at right angles to his 
former one. They immediately started in the 
new direction, with eager expectation of over- 
taking bruin. Thev went out a little ways be- 



74 l-ifc and Adventures of 

fore they did start up game; not the bear, but 
instead, an ugly old female panther, with two 
kittens under her maternal care. The kittens 
were not over two days old, and evidently had 
only just got their eyes open, and were out for 
their first promenade. The old panther sprang 
into a hemlock tree as the boys approached her 
lair, and lashing the boughs with her tail, pre- 
pared to spring upon them. A hasty, very 
hasty council of war was held by the )'oung 
hunters. Elisha, who carried the old smooth 
bore, told Nat to fire first, while he would re- 
serve his charge of buckshot for a contest at 
close range if it became necessary. 

Nat accordingly took careful aim, using the 
side of a tree for a rest, and fired. The rifle, as 
usual, kicked him over, but a scream of pain 
from the panther told him that his bullet had 
reached its mark. Screeching with pain and 
fury, the panther scrambled to the very top of 
the tree and turned to spring, but fell to the 
ground. The boys shouted with joy, supposing 
she was dead. But not so — up she jumped the 
moment she struck the ground, and with long 
leaps made towards tUe boys. Elisha now aimed 
his smooth l^ore across the shoulders of Nat, who 
knelt down to afiford his brother this rest, and 
fired into the very face of the panther, as he 



Nat Foster. 75 

was scarcely twelve feet away. The peppery 
buckshot was effectual. With another leap she 
fell dead at their very feet. It was a narrow- 
escape for the boys, but they were as cool and 
indifferent as mature men. Nat said he did not 
know which was worse, to shoot panthers or 
iight Injuns." 

After skinning the panther, they looked 
around for the young ones and found them 
under the shelter of a huge rock, and mewing 
piteously for their mother. The boys took them 
home and kept them for some time; but as they 
grew larger and more playful, they also became 
more troublesome, so they were killed and the 
bounties for them obtained from the town. This 
bounty obtained for the slaughter of bears, 
wolves and panthers, though very small during 
the war, was about the only source of cash rev- 
enue the lads had, and the few shillings they 
obtained from the town in this wa}' enabled 
them to keep going with tolerable fairness. 

One night Nat started after the cows rather 
late, and being in a great hurry, did not stop to 
get a gun, as he usually did on going into the 
woods. The Fosters nad no pasture fenced in. 
The land about the cabin whereon the crops 
were grown, was surrounded by a stone and log- 
fence, and the herd was allowed to roam at will. 



76 Life and Adventures of 

This evening they had wandered an unusual 
distance into- the woods, and it was dusk before 
Nat located them by the tinkle of the bell on 
the leader. He rounded them up at once and 
started them off home at a brisk walk. They 
seemed somewliat frightened and loath to pro- 
ceed, which immediately aroused Nat's suspicion 
that a wolf or panther had driven them into the 
woods, and was probably now lurking about. 
They had proceeded but a little ways on the 
homeward path ere his suspicions were con- 
firmed by a monstrous panther, with its usual 
scream, springing from a tree, directly for the 
cow leading. He missed her, however, and dis- 
appeared in the brush. The frightened cows 
now started on a run, their terror increased by 
Nat's hallooing and shouting for somebody to 
bring a gun. The family heard him, and Elisha 
started, staggering under the weight of both 
the smooth bore and rifle. He met Nat at the 
bars in the fence, and Mrs. Foster and the girls 
taking charge of the cows, the boys returned to 
the woods and commenced to hunt for the pan- 
ther. But although they went a long distance 
into the woods and were beyond the cow path, 
not a sign of a panther did they see. Giving it 
up at last, they turned their steps homeward. 
Darkness had now fallen upon them, and they 



Nat Foster. jy 

had only the moon to hgliten their path. As 
they approached the bars again, Nat espied what 
looked very much hke a rock or boulder moving 
among the stones scattered about the fence and 
bars. "Hist," said he, "there's the painter," at 
the same time raising his rifle and firing. With 
one of its blood-curding screeches the panther 
bounded to the top of the wall. There it stood 
but an instant, crouching upon the stones, an- 
grily lashing its yellow sides with its tail, its 
agile form dimly outlined by the feeble rays of 
the moon, showing the devil's own look in its 
eyes. Elisha was a lad of deliberate action, and 
probably if Nat had waited for him to shoot, 
one or both of them would have been seriously 
injured by the now furious animal. But Nat 
was not of the slow moving kind, but quick as 
a flash, as his conduct now showed; springing 
to his feet, for the rifle had kicked him over, as 
usual, he snatched the smooth bore from his 
brother's hands and sent its charge of buckshot 
between the glaring eyes of the panther, and 
with another scream and a mighty leap into the 
air, it fell dead. 

It had evidently followed the fleeing cows and 
shouting boy to the edge of the forest, and there 
hirked about, only kept from attacking the cows 
by the women's voices, as tney got them into 



78 Life and Adventures of 

their proper enclosure and prepared to milk 
them. The boys, not expecting to find it so 
near the cabin, had passed it as they went into 
the woods. And only Nat's eagle eye detected 
it on their return from the search in the woods. 

One night the family was awakened by the 
violent squealing of the pigs, which for greater 
safety were kept in a sty near the cabin. Nat, 
without stopping for the ceremony of dressing, 
seized the rifle and made his way out into the 
night. There was a bright moon, and he in- 
stantly discovered an immense black bear mak- 
ing off with one of me half grown pigs in his 
embrace, the latter piercing the clear night air 
wath its lusty squeals. How to shoot the bear 
without killing the pig at the same time was 
Nat's first thought. But as the bear was rapidly 
escaping, he dismissed this from his mind and 
started in pursuit, the tails of his tow shirt flying 
in the gentle breeze. Coming to within what he 
would call a "healthy distance," he fired. With 
a groan the bear fell in a heap, the pig under- 
neath, and the sudden cessation of its agonized 
squeals told him that if he had not shot it, its 
life had certainly been crushed out by the weight 
of the bear. 

Bruin proved to be wounded in the shoulder. 
Rising on its hind legs it immediately showed 



A^at Foster. 79 

fight. At this Nat, having" no ammunition with 
him, shouted to the members of the family to 
bring himi the powder horn and bullet pouch. 
The deliberate Elisha had stopped to don his 
trowsers and load the smooth bore. He now 
appeared with that favorite fowling piece in his 
hands, accompanied by little Solomon carrying 
the powder and balls. 

A grotesque scene met their eyes, and con- 
vulsions of laughter seized tliem. Elisha, with 
his characteristic manner, sat down on a log, 
and commenced to hug himself as a paroxysm 
of laughter laid hold of ..im, while Solomon 
shouted to the family to "come quick and see 
Nat and the bear dance." There was the bear, 
reared on its hind legs, bending over the body 
of poor pig, growling fiercely and pawing the 
air with its one good fore paw, endeavoring to 
land a blow at Nat; the latter was dancing about 
him, his bare legs flashing in the moonlight, 
giving the bear an occasional blow on the head 
with the butt of the rifle, or a poke in the ribs 
with the end of the barrel. The rear tail of his 
shirt was trailing on the ground behind him, 
fastened to the garment proper by a single shred, 
it having been nearly torn off by the bear's land- 
ing a blow on his rear as he careened around 
its crouching body. This kind of sport did not 



8o Life and Adventures of 

suit Nat; neither did the amusement he was 
affording his brothers, on account of his posi- 
tion and appearance soothe him. But he did not 
cease an instant to engage the ])ear's attention. 
He continued to parry with him as industriously 
as ever, while he shouted to Elisha to let the bear 
have the charge in his gun. 

"Shoot 'em, 'Lish, shoot 'em, I tell you," said 
he. "Stop your laughin' and shoot 'em," he ex- 
claimed, growing more excited as he dodged a 
blow aimed at him by the bear and gave the 
brute .a savage poke in the side with the gun, 
which nearly pushed the animal over. 

"Lo-lo-look out for you legs, Nat," ex- 
claimed Elisha, "he'll claw em." And he went 
off into another fit of laughter, without appar- 
ently having heard Nat's appeal to him to shoot. 

"Nat, if you doii't look out, he'll tear your 
best shirt offen you," said little Solomon, as he 
danced about at a safe distance from the dancing- 
bear and hopping youth. 

"You shet up and gimme that powder," re- 
torted Nat, now thoroughly disgusted with the 
conduct of his brothers. 

"Well, come and get it then," said Solomon, 
holding it out at arm's length, cautiously keep- 
ing at a safe distance from the contesting bear 
and boy, "I aint going to give him a chance to 
tear mv shirt." 



Nat Foster. 8i 

Nat seized the proffered liorn, poured a 
■charge into the gun, and, forgetting in his ex- 
citement to put in a ball, fired point blank into 
the bear's face. 

"O-O-Oh!" shouted Elisha, "tha-tha-that 
only scorched his eyebrows,'' and he went off 
into another fit of laughter. 

It was true that the charge of pow^der had 
scorched the bear's eyebrows; but it did more. 
It burned his nose, blinded his eyes, and greatly 
increased his fury. Dropping on his three legs 
(the fourth had been shattered by Nat's first 
shot) he limped blindly, but with wonderful 
rapidity towards the seated Elisha, who was 
again hugging himself and swaying his body 
back and forth, Nat's powder charge having 
tickled him so. But a shout of warning from 
Nat and his little brother, brought him to his 
senses. Ceasing nis laughter, he looked up, 
and gazed almost directly in the wide open jaws 
of the enraged bear, as it was making towards 
him. Then for the first time, he realized that 
the struggle that had afforded them so much 
amusement, was of a really serious nature, and 
rousing himself to action, he seized the ever 
ready smooth bore, which until now had rested 
at his feet, and gallantly met the charge of the 
on-coming bear. It was already almost upon 



82 Life and Adventures of 

him. Without putting the gun to his shoulder^ 
he thrust the muzzle into the bear's mouth and 
fired the contents of the gun down its throat. 
With a growl, a snort and a wheeze from his 
lacerated windpipe, the poor beast gave up the 
gallant fight it had been maintaining, and laid 
down and died. 

Although the family could ill-afiford to lose 
the pig, yet they estimated that they got more 
meat from the bear's carcass, (which was a large 
one), than they would have gotten from the 
pig had they been enabled to fatten it. So bar- 
ing the damage of Nat's tow shirt, the night's 
adventure was a clear gain. 

The boys once caught an eagle in a trap set 
for wolves. The trap was fastened to a drag or 
small log, in order to allow a wolf caught in it 
to pull himself about a little. Often a wolf 
caught in a trap securely fastened to a tree or a 
log he could not move, would deliberately chew 
his foot off and thus make his escape. In order 
to avoid this, the boys always set their wolf traps 
fastened to a small billet of wood, which would 
admit of the animal's slow progress through the- 
woods after being caught. They were always 
able to track and overtake him by means of the 
trail made by the drag. 

The eagle caught was a large and powerful. 



Nat Foster. 83 

one, and would rise into the air the length of 
the chain fastened to the trap, even lifting from 
the ground one end of the small log to which 
it was fastened; but the weight was too great 
to admit of his flying away. 

Nat was the one to discover the bird in the 
trap, and he immediately rushed into a close 
contest, intent on subduing and taking the eagle 
alive. He as quickly retreated, however, and it 
would be supposed .a sadder and wiser boy. The 
eagle, with its one free foot, its beak and wings, 
gave him such a clawing, pecking and beating 
that, when he presented himself at the cabin to 
report the eagle in the trap, and secure assist- 
ance in capturing it, the family hardly knew 
him. His tow shirt had fared worse than in his 
memorable encounter with the bear. It was, 
in fact, nearly torn from his body. His trow- 
sers were a sight to behold; while blood 
streamed from his nose, and from numerous 
cuts and scratches on his face and shoulders. 
He staunched the flow of blood at the wash 
basin, while he related to the family his encoun- 
ter with the eagle. 

Meanwhile Elisha bustled about, procuring 
ropes, an ax, and the trusty smooth bore, in 
case they found it necessary to shoot the bird. 
Nat, having stopped the flow of blood, washed 



84 Life and Adi'enturcs of 

his face, pinned up his clothes with what was 
his ever ready fasteners, thorns, started with his 
brother to secure the bird. Having- arrived, 
they decided after discussing the situation, that 
the free leg of the eagle must be first captured 
and bound to the one in the trap. Nat accord- 
ingly formed a slip noose in one of the ropes, 
and again rushed in on tlie powerful bird. One 
would naturally think that his former treatment 
from it would have taught him a lesson. But 
it apparently had made no impression on his 
mind, though it had on his body. For a few 
moments he and the eagle were hopelessly 
mixed. Feathers filled the air; clothes were 
ripped afresh; the thorn pins flew in every 
direction, w-hile the eagle screamed with rage 
and fury, and Nat yelled lustily, probably more 
from the same cause than from the hurts he was 
getting. At last he laid a firm hold on the free 
leg of the bird, but in the struggle he had 
dropped the rope. However, he would net let 
go, not he. He continued his tussle until he 
landed the bird on its back; then he shouted to 
Elisha to get a forked stick and pin its head to 
the ground. Elisha seized the ax and plunged 
into the brush to cut the desired article, but as 
usual in cases of excitement and hurry, he could 
not readily find a stick with the proper crotch. 



Nat Foster. 85 

Meanwhile, Nat had unwarily released with one 
hand his grasp and reached out to get the rope 
lying near. Whereupon the eagle renewed its 
struggles. Again they fought, the l^ird some- 
times on top, terribly beating the lad with its 
wings; the next instant Nat on top endeavoring 
to throw the bird down. But again he mastered 
it, and Elisha at last appearing with the stick, 
succeeded in fastening its head to the ground 
by placing the forks of the stick across its neck, 
thus effectively shutting off its wind. Then it 
was an easy matter to bind its legs, and a cord 
around its throat kept up tne "shutting off" pro- 
cess on its windpipe ; thus the bird was conveyed 
home and laid at the cabin door, admired by the 
whole family. The boys constructed a cage of 
poles and kept the bird captive the rest of the 
sunnuer. Its leg, broken by the trap, soon 
healed and it grew quite tame, and would cackle 
and scream in the morning for its breakfast of 
fresh meat, which the boys, by their hunting, 
always had in abundance. They named the pet 
"Old Put" in memory of Gen. Putnam, with 
whose fame they were familiar. 

Old Put w^as, of course, a great favorite with 
the whole family, but he soon became a trouble- 
some one. He proved very destructive to their 
hens and chickens. The cunning: bird would 



S6 Life and Adventures of 

stand near the bars of his cage, his broken leg 
drawn up under his bod}^ his eyes drooping and 
nearly closed, and to all appearances sound 
asleep. But let an unwary chick come within 
range of his beak, — quick as a flash he would 
thrust his head through the bars, seize the un- 
fortunate fowl by the neck, and drawing it into 
his enclosure, quickly dispatch it. So Old Put 
was finally given his libert}-. The boys 
particularly disliked to part with him, for they 
had fought to hard for his capture to let him 
go without regrets. But when the door of his 
cage was opened, he gladly availed himself of 
the opportunity to take his flight, and they 
Avatched him as he sailed away towards the 
mountains, finally becoming to them but a tiny 
speck against the blue sky. 

But the liberation of Old Put was not the 
last seen of him, however; one day early in the 
following spring, they observed an immense 
eagle hovering about their clearing, and soon 
discovered by his crooked leg it was Old Put. 
They were all delighted, and the boys rejoiced; 
but when he carried ofif a number of their barn 
3^ard fowds and two of tneir spring lambs, they 
were forced to pocket their sentiment and shoot 
him. Thus was the interesting career of Old 
Put brought to a melancholy and untimely end. 



Nat Foster. 87 

Every person has a romance in his Hfe, and 
Nat's had its beginning during this period of 
his Hfe, though it did not cuhiiinate until he had 
attained man's estate. 

We have spoken of "Billy Wilson," as the 
plain towns people called their aristocratic and 
Tory townsman; we have also spoken of the 
daughter of Mr. Wilson, whom he sent to Bos- 
ton to school. She was his only child, and the 
pride of his heart. During the periods she was 
at home, she in some way made the acquaint- 
ance of Nat, and formed a deep attachment for 
him. She was a year or two his senior; but as 
he was a strong and healthy lad, he became her 
constant companion and protector in her ram- 
bles and strolls in the woods and fields for ber- 
ries, acorns and nuts. He could climb the 
highest trees and go out on the most dangerous 
branches to shake down the nuts for her. While 
he knew the best berry patches and the choicest 
places to gather wild grapes and mandrakes. 
Little Mary was with Nat so much that her 
father became quite attached to the lad, and 
probably if his father had not been a patriot, 
would have made more of the boy. One time, 
after Mary had spent the winter and spring at 
school in Boston, she returned home with her 
mind filled with plans of berrying, nutting and 



88 Life and Adventures of 

rambling with Nat Foster. As soon as she ar- 
rived home, her first inquiry was in regard to 
Nat; and the next morning she put on a sun- 
bonnet, took a spUnt basket on her arm, and 
called to see Mrs. Foster, incidently to see if 
Nat could go berrying with her. Nat was glad 
to see her, of course, and it was readily arranged 
that he might accompany her to where there 
were some luscious blackberries, he had dis- 
covered only the day before. 

Taking the rifle, Nat started away with Mary 
at his side. She was full of news of her school 
life in Boston; and she entertained him with her 
stories and accounts of her life in Boston, until 
they had nearly covered the distance to the berry 
patch. Finally she began to question him in re- 
gard to his own school life, and was shot ked 
and horrified to find that Nat could not even 
read. There were no sci.ools maintained in the 
township, and the truth was, the children were 
growing up in ignorance. Little ]\Iary had 
never discovered this defect in her admired 
friend. Summer after summer he had been 
playmate and companion, winning her respect 
and admiration by his feats of daring and skill, 
but she had never thought of Nat's mental ac- 
complishments. For an instant she was shocked 
and grieved at this monstrous gap between her 



Nat Foster. 89 

and her chosen friend. Then a bright idea struck 
her active brain. 

"Why Nat," said she, "why don't you go to 
Boston to school?" 

"Go to Boston to school!" exclaimed Nat; 
"why how is a fellow going to get the money to 
pay?" 

"Oh, I have it," answered Mary, "I'll ask my 
father to pay for you. He will, I know, for he 
likes you, and thinks you will make a nice man." 

Just then they rounded a bend in the path 
which brought them 'to the berry patch. But 
it also brought them face to face W'ith an old 
she bear, with two cubs following. They were 
lumbering along the path directly towards the 
children. Mary screamed at the sight and clung 
to her boy protector. 

Said Nat: "Mary, you run and I will stay and 
fight them ofif." But still she clung to her pro- 
tector, and began to cr\'. Meanwhile the old 
bear had continued towards them, until she w^as 
but a few feet away. Having her cubs with her 
she undoubtedly acted more fierce than she 
would otherwise have done. She now^ sat upon 
her haunches and began to growl fiercely, so 
that even Nat began to be afraid. He kept his 
eye fastened on the bear, however, while he 
backed away, pushing his girl companion along 
7 



go Life and Adventures of 

behind him, tclhng her aU the while to run. 
Finally she did flee, and with all the swiftness her 
young strength permitted. Then Nat began to 
back off more rapidly, when the old bear 
dropped on all fours again, and ambled towards 
him. M^hen she again drew near him she sat 
upon her haunches again. Nat redoubled his 
efforts to back away, when again the bear 
dropped upon all fours and trotted nearer, then 
she sat up again. This sort of game was kept 
up quite a distance down the path, Nat being 
restrained from shooting by the fact that he had 
no ammunition with him, save the charge in 
his gun. 

Finally in his backing off process, Nat struck 
his foot against a root, and came near falling in 
a heap. In saving himself, he took his eyes off 
the bear, and as he struggled about to regain 
his footing, she made a rush for him. He took 
aim as well as he could (for he knew this was 
his only chance) and fired, and then turned and 
ran as he never ran before; in fact, it would have 
been a hard matter for the bear, if she was so 
disposed, to overtake him. 

Nat soon overtook his little friend, who was 
nearly dead from fright and hard running. He 
soothed her as best he could, and then accom- 
panied her home. When they arrived, Mary in- 



Nat Foster. 91 

-sisted that he go in, and she told her father of 
his gallant conduct. Mr. Wilson listened and 
when she had finished said: 

''Well, I always knew the lad was a brave 
one, but then his father is a rebel, and I have no 
use for such people. But see here, my lad," 
he continued, turning to Nat, "if you will prom- 
ise me to become a Loyalist I will send you to 
Boston to school, and make a gentleman of 
you." 

Schooling was what Nat wanted, and here 
was the very opportunity that he and Mary had 
been talking about. But the insinuation thrown 
upon his father, together with the proposition 
of his turning Loyalist roused his indignation. 

"What, "said he, "I a Loyalist, and my father 
fighting for freedom? No! not for all the learn- 
ing there is in Boston! If my dad is a rebel, 
then I'm one too." Ana with his face burning 
with wrath and indignation he stalked out of the 
house, without even stopping to bid Mary good 
bye. He went home and told his mother of his 
adventure, and his subsecjuent treatment at the 
hands of Mr. Wilson. 

''Natty," said the good woman, ''you have 
done right, and God will reward you for your 
good deeds, even if our fellow-men will not." 
And with this sentiment, and his mother's kind 
words, Nat was entirelv satisfied. 



92 Life and Adventures of 

The next morning he and Ehsha went to the 
berry patch and found the bear dead. Nat's 
one shot had done its work. They also found 
the half grown cubs of the dead bear contentedly 
eating berries in the neighboring berry patch. 
Securing these they spent the remainder of the 
day getting the pelts and carcasses home, and 
trying out the fat of the cubs. 

Nat had no opportunity to see his little friend 
Mary again. For her father would not permit 
it; and in the fall they moved to Boston, so that 
little Mary Wilson was soon forgotten, until an 
incident in his after life served to bring her 
memory to him again, together with her Tory 
father's unkindness. But this will be given in 
its proper place. 



CHAPTER VI. 



IN 1782, the war being- about over, Mr. Fos- 
ter decided to return to his home and fire- 
side. I stop and lay down my pen as I attempt 
to describe that return to his home, and the 
reunion with his family. 

Seven years and ten months he had been 
absent, fighting for the freedom of that country 
he loved as his own life. During those years he 
had received no word from or about his family. 
Whether they were living or dead he knew not. 
What success or failure they had had in keeping 
together, and securing a living, he had no idea, 
sa,ve that if his faithful spouse w^as living, she 
was doing all possible to keep the family to- 
gether. He knew his children must be grown 
beyond his recognition. But of the condition 
of each and all he was entirely ignorant. 

During the long period he had been in the 
Continental army he had not slept in a bed or 
eaten a meal decently cooked. He stood the 
strain well. His huge frame and iron constitu- 
tion seemed proof against the severe hardships 
he had been called uj^n to endure. But still it 



94 Life and Adventures of 

told on him towards the last. His form became 
bent, and his face furrowed. Early in 1782 he 
contracted a severe cold, which brought on in- 
flanmiation of the eyes, and he was obliged to 
go to one of the army surgeons* for treatment. 
At regular intervals attacks of ague also racked 
his gigantic frame. His friends and the surgeon 
attending him tried to persuade him to give up 
and go- home. But no, he would not leave the 
army until England was whipped and his coun- 
try free. So he continued in the field, suffering 
from sore eyes, and his body shaken wdth ague 
fits, until steps were taken to form the treaty of 
peace; then he consented to give up, and im- 
mediately set his face homeward. 

The same state of ignorance and suspense was 
endured by his family during his protracted ab- 
sence. As we have seen, they met, fairly and 
successfully, the trials of their situation. For- 
tune smiled on Mrs. Foster and gave the child- 
ren healthy bodies and willing hands to work 
and endure for the common interest. 

Providence was remarkably Kmd to them in 
bestowing success upon their cultivation of the 
soil and pursuit of the chase. The all seeing 
and all powerful One had preserved and pro- 
tected them. But year after year came and 
went, and no word was received from the ab- 



Nat Foster. 95 

sent husband and father. The children fre- 
quently spoke of him, ana Nat and Elisha often 
expressed the wish that "Father might see the 
excellent shot," or the "big game" brought 
home. 

As time wore away, Mrs. Foster's face be- 
came more grave, and even sad. The children, 
sometimes noting it, asked the cause, but the 
noble woman seldom saddened their young 
hearts by telling them the real cause. Occa- 
sionally, however, she could not conceal her 
emotions. One day w^hen Nat found her weep- 
ing, he guessed for the first time that she, fear- 
ing never to see his father again, had given him 
up as lost; and he, too, became tnoughtful and 
sad for a time. But, boy-like, his exuberancy 
of spirits soon made him cheerful and lively 
again. 

His mother, as we can well imagine, was an 
untiring worker. She managed tneir little farm 
so well that in a few seasons it was in a superior 
state of cultivation for those times. The stock 
was increased; the three or four sheep they had 
when Mr. Foster went away had multiplied tO' a 
large flock. A half a dozen of milch cows and 
a yoke of oxen, which the boys had raised and 
broken from calves, w^ere among their posses- 
sions. When we think of the work that was 



96 Life and Adventures of 

done then by hand in the home, which is now 
performed by machinery in mills and factories, 
we wonder that the good woman was able to 
keep up at all, with the countless demands upon 
her. But her hands were willing and her in- 
genuity a resourceful one; and she worked on, 
constantly and bravely. 

Let us glance at some of her presumably 
numerous duties. In the summer she had the 
crops to look after, the cows to attend, with the 
working up of their products. Under her direc- 
tion the wild and domestic meats must be 
corned and cured for winter's use. In the fall 
she must superintend the harvesting of the 
crops; the cutting, rotting, pounding and work- 
ing up of the flax, from which a large part of 
their supply of cloth was obtained. This task of 
properly securing the flax was no small one. It 
was first pulled and allowed to remain in the 
fields until the outer shell or bark had rotted 
away, then it was gathered and beaten up with 
a "pounder." The inner texture was then ob- 
tained for the work of the hetchel, card, spinning 
wheel and loom. Those familiar with the old- 
fashioned Herrick's Almanac, or who have been 
curious enough to examine the cuts that ap- 
pear in that old free medical work, must have 
noticed a picture illustrating the process of 
pounding and working up of flax. 




^> 



Nat Foster. 97 

The carding of this beaten flax, together with 
the wool sheared from their sheep in the spring, 
must have occupied her attention well on into 
the winter. Then she would set her spinning 
wheel to running, and spend the winter in spin- 
ning and weaving. 

It was while engaged in this occupation of 
spinning- one day in November that her 
thoughts reverted to her absent husband. She 
was alone in the cabin. Zilpha, now a healthy 
and vigorous girl of fourteen, was working some 
fall butter in a little cabin by the spring. The 
boys had built it for a "milk house," but nowa- 
days it would be dignihed with the name of 
■''creamery." The three younger children were 
in the woods gathering nuts. 

There had been some very pleasant Indian 
summer days, which had greatly cheered this 
faithful woman. But this day the weather was 
of that bleak, autumnal character, which pre- 
vails most frequently during the month of No- 
vember. The wind roared and howled through 
the tree tops, and moaned and sighed in its 
careerings down the chimney. Fitful gusts set 
the ashes in the fireplace flying through the 
air; and handfuls of dead leaves beat against 
the panes of the little window of the cabin, 
which incessantly rattled and shook in its case- 
ment. 



9^ Life and Adventures of 

Her state of mind was in keeping with the- 
moaning and sighing wind and the melancholy- 
droning of her spinning wheel. She felt mourn- 
ful and disconsolate. But two months more 
would come and go, ere eight years would have 
passed since she had seen her husband. Mvid 
in her mind now was the scene of his parting, 
as he kissed her and the children good-bye and. 
started, gun in hand, for Boston, to fight for 
freedom. She had heard months ago of the 
surrender of Cornwallis, and of the probable 
speedy termination of the war. Already, she hai' 
heard, the patriots were returning to their homes 
and hearth-stones. But would her husband re- 
turn to her? Nay; she dare not hope that. 
Tears came to her eyes, but she resolutely 
dashed them away, and set her wheel to revolv- 
ing more rapidly than ever. Soon came a knock.. 
She stopped her wheel and going to the door, 
opened it. There stood before her a blear-eyed' 
man, his clothing in rags, his long hair matted 
and snarled, his face unshaven, and his body 
painfully bowed. He lifted his watery eyes to« 
her with a longing and beseeching look in them ; 
but he spoke no word. She, supposing him to 
be a poor wayfarer, said, "Come in, my good 
man, and warm yourself, and 1 will give you a. 
1)ite to eat." She moved aside and he stepped: 



Nat Foster. 



99 



into the cabin. Straightening himself with an 
effort, he spoke for the first time: 

"Lydia," said he, ""don't you know me?" 

She hahed, she hesitated an instant, and then 
wdth a heaving breast and tears welHng to her 
eyes, she clasped her husband to^ her bosom. 
Together they wept like children. His body 
was weak from sickness, and, fatigued by his, 
long journey, gave way under the excitement 
and strain. He would have fallen had not his 
W'ife supported him, and guiding him to a chair 
seated herself, taking him on her lap, as she 
would one of her children. It was many momen+s 
before either could speak. And then Mrs. Fos- 
ter could only cry out between her sobs of joy,. 
"Oh, Nathaniel, Nathaniel, my husband, my 
husband." 

"Lydia," said Mr. Foster at last, rousing him- 
self, our country is free. Where are the 
children." 

The mention of the children reminded Mrs- 
Foster that there were others tO' share her joy. 
Going to the door, she took down the dinner 
horn, and blew a loud and long blast from its 
metallic throat. Its summons at that unusual 
hour, was heeded at once by those within its 
sound, and caused them to hasten homeward,, 
with all the speed possible. 



loo Life and Adventures of 

The first to arrive was Zilpha. She was a 
beautiful girl, already developing into woman- 
hood. She came running in great haste, carry- 
ing the wooden butter ladle she had been using, 
and which, in her hurry, she had forgotten to 
leave. 

"Your father has come," was the simple an- 
nouncement of her mother, as she met her at 
the door. With a cry of joy the girl sprang to 
the door, and then hesitated, gazing timidly at 
the ragged, unkempt man seated by the fire. 
There she stood bare-headed, her dark hair 
falling in ringlets about her shoulders, mantled 
with a simple dress of "homespun," her black 
eyes flashing, and her cheeks flushed from her 
run from the milk house, a most beautiful and 
Avelcome picture to her father. 

"Come, my daughter, come," said Mr. Fos- 
ter, holding out his hands to^ her. She hesitated 
no longer, but throwing the butter ladle upon 
the floor, sprang into the embracing arms of her 
poor father, and covered his w^eather-beaten face 
with her sweet kisses. 

The children now came trooping in with their 
bags and baskets of nuts. They too, approached 
their father slyly. All but Sybil. She only 
stopped to ask, "Is that my pa you told me 
about?" and upon being told by her mother 



Nat Foster. loi 

that it was her "pa," she exclaimed, "Then I 
will go and kiss him," and running tO' him, she 
threw her chubby arms about his neck and 
again rejoiced his heart by her caresses. 

The boys soon arrived, bearing between them,^ 
slung to a pole, a yearling deer they had shot. 
The strapping young fellows were more noisy 
and boisterous in their greetings of their 
father than were the other children. Nat par- 
ticularly was very demonstrative: "Hurrah for 
father," he shouted, as he tossed up his hat, and 
rushed into the cabin. "Hurrah, father," he 
shouted as he grasped his parent's hand. "Did 
you whip the Crown? he exclaimed, as he 
recollected the avowed object of his father's 
leaving home and which now seemed so^ many, 
many years ago. "Yes, yes, my lad," answered 
Mr. Foster, "we've fought the Crown, and beat 
him, too. Our country is now free, thank God." 

The sight of his family grouped about him, 
with little Sybil on his knee, again moved Mr. 
Foster toi tears of joy. Here they all were, safe 
and sound, well and healthy after his long ab- 
sence from home. 

The two oldest boys were strapping big fel- 
lows for their ages. Elisha was eighteen, and 
Nathaniel, though but sixteen, was fully as 
large as his elder brother. Zilpha was fourteen. 



I02 Life and Adventures of 

The next, Ann, was twelve. Solomon no longer 
considered himself little at the age of ten, 
though Sybil was content to be the baby of the 
family at eight. 

Mr. Foster had gone unflinchingly through 
the dangers and hardships of war; he had par- 
ticipated in bloody battles, and seen with in- 
difference loathsome acts of savagery. But 
these noble sons and daughters, standing be- 
fore him, with their faithful mother, quite un- 
nerved him, and he shed tears of gratitude and 
joy. 

Regaining somewhat his composure, he 
blessed them all, as he had blessed them years 
before. The sense of strangeness which the 
children first felt towards their father soon wore 
away, and the boys began to tell him of their ad- 
ventures and experiences in hunting and trap- 
ping, in working and managing the farm, in 
trading and bartering. He listened with keen 
relish and appreciation. Rousing himself, he 
went out and inspected the deer they had 
brought in; and then looked over tne farm and 
stock, expressing great surprise and pleasure 
at the good and orderly appearance of every- 
thing. Returning to the house, they found the 
evening meal prepared, and with grateful hearts 
they gathered around the board, and bowed 



Nat Foster. 103 

their heads as Mr. J:^oster — as the head of the 
household — invoked God's blessing on the meal. 
It was truly a happy family gathered around tlie 
table that night. 

Supper being over, Mr. Foster again took 
Sybil on his knee and listened to the l)oys as they 
continued the accounts of their life during his 
absence. When pressed to tell his own ex- 
periences, he shook his head, and said: 

"Not to-night, boys. Our country is free and 
you ought to be satisfied with that." 

Not for weeks would Mr. Foster give his 
family any particular account of his years of 
wandering and fighting. He seemed so satis- 
fied and thankful for his return home, and the 
finding of his family safe and sound, that he 
did not appear to care about mentioning any of 
his own experiences, but seemed contented and 
satisfied in listening to accounts of theirs, par- 
ticularly those of the boys. He laughed long and 
loud as Solomon described Nat's nocturnal en- 
counter with the bear, and the damage done to 
his tow shirt. He nodded his head approvingly 
when they told him of the capture, liberation, 
and subsequent shooting of Old Put. But he 
erew^ wrathv when thev told him of the Indians' 
treatment of Nat in tying him to a tree. He at 
once fell to giving the boys some instruction and 



104 Life and Adventures of 

advice on Indian hateing and Indian shooting. 
Advice and instruction they did not need to 
have impressed upon them so very much by 
reason of their own encounters and experiences 
with the savage men. 

Under the benign influence of his home and 
its comforts, Mr. Foster rapidly regained, to a 
considerable degree, his former health, though 
it was not possible that it be fully restored after 
the long and severe strain on his constitution. 
He was afterwards always afflicted with rheu- 
matism; and his eyes troubled him, until finally 
he became totally blind, from the ertects of the 
inflammation in tUem while in the army. Within 
a few weeks after his return, however, he was 
sufficiently restored to walk about the town, 
bearing himself with pardonable pride, con- 
scious, as he was, of his long and faithful service 
in fighting for the freedom of the Colonies. 

About this time he began to talk more freely 
of his experiences and adventures while away 
to war. And in this connection there was one 
thing which seemed of particular interest to 
him ; that was the Mohawk Valley, and the sur- 
rounding country of hills and mountains cov- 
ered with dense forest. The time of his cam- 
paign in New York State was when the country 
was to be seen at its best. The noble hills and 



Nat Foster. 105 

broad valleys were luxuriant with their mantles 
of green. The Dutch settlements gave com- 
plete testimony of the fertility of the river mead- 
ows, while the forests of the adjacent hills and 
mountains abounded with game, which the pat- 
riot troops constantly bagged for food. 

Mr. Foster so frequently spoke of the superi- 
ority of New York State to New Hampshire, 
that Nat surprised him one day, as he was 
drawing comparisons between the mountains of 
New York and of their own, by exclaiming, 
"Say father, let's go there and live." Mr. Fos- 
ter looked at his swarthy son to see if he was 
in earnest, and being assured, he told the impul- 
sive lad to be content where he was. That a 
bird in the hand was far better than two in the 
bush, and such like advice. Yet the suggestion 
of his son left its impression on his mind. Yes, 
why not go? Why not go west, as New York 
was then called? His family, which had been so 
mercifully preserved to him, were now at the 
time of vigorous youth, and demanded a better 
place for maturing than Hinsdale afforded. His 
farm, which they had kept up, was small, and 
the game, according to the boys' own testimony, 
was already beginning to disappear. Yes, why 

not go? 
8 



io6 Life and Adventures of 

He broached the subject to the family, and 
the idea was hailed with delight by the boys. 
Only Mrs. Foster, with the characteristics of her 
sex, was loath to leave the old place. But the 
matter being fully discussed as the winter ad- 
vanced, it was definitely settled that they should 
go in the spring. After all, iXat's suggestion 
prevailed. We shall see, as we follow his life, 
what an important bearing it had on his 
career. 

And so now, after years of fighting and war- 
ring, the old patriot was to see a new home. 
As in the prime of life he had left Rhode Island 
and sought a home in New Hampshire, for that 
family that was to be born to him; so now, in 
his older years, he was to seek a more congenial 
place for the family to develope in, which would 
admit of their expansion. Already he felt the 
weight of years. His constitution, once as of 
iron, was now broken and shattered; and added 
to this was threatened blindness. 

And here I would pause and relate a touching- 
incident connected with the darkness of his last 
days, at the risk of being censured for inter- 
polating. It Happened many years after his 
emigration to New York State, (1826), when he 
was spending the quiet of his extreme old age 
witn his son, Nat, at the latter's home in Salis- 



Nat Foster. 107 

bury, Herkimer county, N. Y. A reunion of 
the Fosters was being held at Nat's home, and 
among the guests was a lad of seven years, a 
great-grandson of Mr. Foster. 

The old man, in the weakness of his age, was 
lying on a bed in a room adjoining that in 
which the company were assembled. He heard 
them speaking of this boy in very flattering- 
terms. They all regarded him as a child of 
great promise. Hearing them speak so much of 
the boy, he requested that he be brought to him. 
So, agreeably to his request, the lad was brought 
in to his bedside. The old man proceeded to 
give him such acivice, in regard to his duty to 
his God, his country and his fellow-man, as he, 
by reason of his ripe age and matured experi- 
ence, was so well fitted to give. And then rising 
to a sitting posture, he stretched out his hands 
and laid them upon the boy's head, and raising 
his sightless eyes to heaven, like Jacob of old, 
gave the lad his patriarchal blessing. 

It was a touching episode, and one which 
moved all of the witnesses as they were grouped 
around tlie blind and aged patriarch, and the 
fair young child. It left its lasting impression 
upon the heart of the lad. He still lives (1897) at 
an advanced age in one of the northern towns 
of Fulton Countv, N. Y. His life has been a ful- 



io8 Life and Adventures of 

tillnient of the prophecies his relatives made of 
him that day, and impressed and emphasized by 
his grandsire's advice and blessing. And his own 
testimony is to the effect that that advice and 
blessing did much to mold and fashion his life 
into the one of virtue, honesty and devotion to 
God, which has characterized it. 

The above incident will also suffice as a refu- 
tation of the story that is sometimes heard in 
the woods in connection with the life of Nat Fos- 
ter, the son. It is to the effect that his father,, 
mother, brother, and sisters were all massacred 
at one time by the Indians. The elder Foster 
died peacefully at the home of Nat, soon after 
the above incident. 

The children were all eager to go into the 
new country. Nat was particularly anxious to 
go; for the advantages he was sure it would af- 
ford him and Elisha for hunting and trapping. 

"Are there any Injuns there dad?" he inno- 
cently asked his father one day, as they were 
talking over the plans of moving in the spring. 

"Injuns!" exclaimed his father, starting up, 
'Tnjuns, did you say? Yes, lots of 'em. And 
you'll have need to look out lad, if you go to 
hunting and trapping in the mountains north of 
the vallev. The red devils will steal vou blind,, 



A^a^ Foster. 109 

and then kill you in the bargain." And he con- 
tinued giving- his young son more advice and 
information about Indians and Indian fighting. 

"I'll tell what, my lad," he said, "make shoot- 
ing the red devils your life's work. But even 
then," he continued, "you can't repay 'em for 
half the hellish w^ork I've seen 'em do right in 
that valley since I've been away. Never excite 
a quarrel v ith any of 'em," he went on, "or with 
any one, for that matter. Be kind and as j^eace- 
ful as you can, for that's what our Maker in- 
tended us to be. But," he added, with a grim 
snapping of his jaws, "it's different with them 
cussed Iniuns. You can't be peaceable with 'em 
nohow." 

Of all the experiences or accounts of his ad- 
ventures he would give concerning his life in the 
war, he was most liberal with the accounts of 
Indian savagery, and Indian treachery, as he 
bad seen it developed under the fostering care 
of British influence. And as he had often said 
he would during the war, he now taught his 
children to hate the unfortunate race. 



CHAPTER VIL 



eARLY in the spring the Fosters began 
preparations for emigrating to New York 
State. Their possessions were rednced as much 
as possible, to facilitate traveHng, which in those 
primitive times, was no small undertaking. 

Their goods, together with their stock was 
sold at public auction, which was a great event 
for the town then, as it is still in many of our 
rural hamlets. All of the farming tools and im- 
plements, save a few liand tools, were also dis- 
posed of at auction. But as in those days more 
than one plow was seldom found on a single 
farm, and the harrowing was done with brush, 
the hay and grain harvested with ''arm strong" 
mowers and reapers (scythe and cradles), there 
were not many implements to sell. Still the auc- 
tion was a lively afifair. Elisha and Nat were the 
envy of the other boys of the town, as they be- 
held them with their father bustling about the 
place, getting things ready, and leading up the 
stock for ^he bawling auctioneer to show his wit 
and exercise his lungs over. All of the guns, 
traps and snares that the boys had accumulated 



Nat Foster. 1 1 1 

were retained. For they did not propose to go 
into the new country unprepared for following 
the chase, even though they might be handi- 
capped for farming. 

Mrs, Foster, woman-like, had planned and ar- 
ranged to take along enough of her household 
goods to load two or three carts, but her pro- 
ceedings were vetoed by the men; and her stock, 
too, was reduced materially by placing such 
things as were not absolutely necessary, under 
the auctioneer's hammer; and although she de- 
murred at first, she afterwards expressed her- 
self as satisfied, when she found they had spared 
her tools for spinning and working u]) flax and 
wool. 

At last the final day arrived. Yoking the oxen 
(which had been retained) to the lumbering two- 
wheeled cart, they loaded their few possessions, 
found seats for the women and children, tied 
their one remaining cow to the rear end of the 
box and were ready. 

To Nat had been assigned the honor of acting 
as driver of the ox team at the start. Proudly 
flourishing his whip, he gave the command to 
"gee up;" the patient, slow-moving oxen leaned 
forward in their yokes, stepped deliberately ofif, 
and the journey to the Mohawk Valley and Ad- 
irondack Mountains was be2:un. 



112 Life and Adventures of 

Probably Mrs. Foster alone, of all the family, 
felt, with any keenness, the pangs of regret at 
leaving the familiar place of such long and ten- 
der associations. If the rest experienced any 
emotions, they did not pause in their eagerness 
of anticipation, to entertain them. But to the 
mother it had been a home of many tender ex- 
periences; and stirring events, too, which left 
their impression on her retentive heart. There 
at the home they were leaving, all of her chil- 
dren had been born and reared, amid the sturdy 
struggles of a pioneer life, intensified by the 
heavy cloud of war which had hung particularly 
heavy over her home. Hence it was that with a 
sigh and genuine pang of silent distress, she 
turned in her seat in the cart, and took a last, 
lingering arid farewell look at the dear old 
"home" on that l^right spring morn. 

The children felt no uneasiness, nor experi- 
enced any regrets at leaving the familiar sur- 
roundings. To them the move was a novelty 
which contained enough of the romantic to ren- 
der starting the all-absorbing feature of their 
young lives at that particular moment. They 
had no very serious thoughts or concerns for the 
future; while the past did not, as yet, present the 
tender ana sentimental features it would in after 
years. 



Nat Foster. 113 

Mr. Foster was indifferent. He had roamed 
about too much during the last few years of his 
hfe to be moved to any feehngs of emotion at 
clianging his place of abode. 

So it was that the mother alone of all the party 
possessed iJiose serious thoughts and reveries, 
which come from such an event as was now hap- 
pening. But her sigh of regret escaped unno- 
ticed; and soon the joyful laughter of the chil- 
dren and the jovial conversation of the older 
boys and Mr. Foster cheered her naturally happy 
soul. 

They journeyed by easy stages, camping by 
the roadside at night; a comfortable shelter of 
skins was rigged over the box of the cart for the 
women and children to repose under, while 
Elisha, Nat and Mr. Foster slept in fur robes 
on the groimd imder the shelter of the cart. 
The cow, which from its position behind the 
cart, necessarily followed with patience the slow 
moving vehicle day after day, supplied them 
Avith milk to accompany their simple repasts of 
corn bread, boiled venison or bear meat and 
roasted potatoes; all prepared by the camp fire. 

Their route, necessarily, lay through a par- 
tially wild and at best but sparsely settled coun- 
try. At night, their sleep was often disturbed 
by the howling wolf, or screaming panther, or 



114 1-i'fc and Adventures of 

by the worrying cattle, tugging at their fasten- 
ings, as their keen senses detected danger. When 
the danger was considered very great, one of 
the older boys or Mr. Foster would keep watch. 
The latter often spoke of Indians, and expressed 
surprise that the "red devils," as he called them, 
had not put in an appearance. But most of the 
Indians, at the close of the war of the Revolution,, 
had withdrawn from New England and New 
York to Canada, and only an occasional band of 
hunters were to be seen. Nothing was seen of 
them by the Foster family until they reached the 
Hudson river 

They arrived at that noble stream just north 
of where tlie \illage of Lansingburg is now sit- 
uated. All other streams they had encountered 
they were able to ford. But to cross here at that 
time, they were obliged to make a raft and ferry 
themselves and their possessions across. The 
ccnstniction of this raft consumed several days. 
And as they \\ere engaged in falling timber for 
the making of it, they observed that they were 
being watched by some persons on the opposite 
shore. \N\\o it was they could not imagine. 
There were no settlers who would care about 
their cutting trees, and the noble red man, if 
it was he, aid not care for the timber. But that 
the watchers were Indians, and that they were 



Nat Foster. 1 1 5. 

watching him and his sons with no good inten- 
tions, Mr. Foster felt certain. 

At last they were ready to trust themselves 
to their rudely constructed raft, and cross to the 
"land of promise," which, if not actually "flow- 
ing with milk and honey," was at least rich in 
the npportui ities it \\ould afiford the family to 
deve'iCpe, each in the direction of his individual 
tastes and likings. 

They began early in the day to put their ef- 
fects on the raft, but it was a slow and tedious 
task. The cart had been taken apart and carried 
on in sections, for when they attempted to wheel 
it on, it had stuck fast in the soft mud of the 
shore. Then followed the work of getting the 
cattle onto the floating crib; all was duly ac- 
complished, however, and late in the afternoon 
they launched out upon the stream, which, at 
that time of the year, was high and turbulent. 
After two h<:urs hard work in fighting the swift 
current, which carried them a mile down the 
stream, they at last brought their crazy craft 
safely to the opposite shore and moored it close 
to the I ank, in a little bay. By that time the 
sun was nearly down. 

As they swung their raft in by the shore, and 
here making it fast to near-by trees, Mr. Fos- 
ter's Cjuick eye detected an Indian watching their 



ii6 Life and Adi'cnfiircs of 

moA^ements from behind a distant tree. It took 
him but a moment to discover two more skulk- 
ing warriors behind different trees, watching 
them intently; and his suspicions of the last two 
days were confirmed. He said nothing to the 
rest, however, about the presence of the Indians, 
but hurried the work of landing. Everything 
was transferred to the shore, the cart set up, 
the camp made and supper cooked before dark. 
Then having gathered his family together, he 
told them of the Indians he had seen, and ap- 
prised them of his fears of an attack from them 
that night. It was decided that the boys and 
Mr. Foster sliould take turns in keeping watch, 
so that all would be guarded against surprise. 
Commending them all to the protection of Al- 
mighty God, the father told them to go to sleep, 
while he kept watch until midnight, as he calcu- 
lated that, if an attack was to be made, it would 
be before that hour. 

He kept his weary and lonely vigil until long 
after midnight, and then, having heard nothing, 
he concluded that the real danger was past, and 
turned the watch over to the boys. 

With yawns and expressions of disgust at 
being roused from their sound slumbers, Nat 
and Elisha got up and took their father's place; 
while he crept into the w^arm place they had 



Nat Foster. 1 1 7 

vacated. Tlie air was chilly, and the night as 
black as i.ik. Seeking one of the cart wheels, 
the boys spread a wolf robe on the ground, and 
seating themselves upon it, with their backs 
supported by the upright wheel, prepared to 
watch the rxight out. 

As we might have suspected, Elisha had the 
old smoth bore by his side, and .\at, with char- 
acteristic caution, sat with his rifle across his 
knees, his keen eyes gazing into the darkness 
and his quick ear strained to catch the least sus- 
picious soimd. 

Their teeth soon commenced to chatter from 
the cold, and Elisha declared that he must be 
allowed to roll himself in the wolf robe on which 
they were seated, or he would certainly freeze 
to death. So Nat obligingly arose and paced 
up and down the camp, while the easy-going 
Elisha wrapped himself in the wolf robe, and, 
naturally enough, was soon sound asleep. 

But no thought of giving away to sleep en- 
tered the mind of Nat. Grasping with firmer 
grip the st^ick of his rifle, he paced his little beat 
with careful step, like an old soldier on guard. 
It was a trying place for a lad of sixteen, even 
if he had i3''en brought up in the pioneer life. 
No sound broke the oppressive stillness. Not 
even a cricket's chirrup or an owd's hoot dis- 



ii8 Life and Adroitiu'es of 

turbed the silence that prevailed. It would have 
been a rehef to hear a wolf howl, or even a pan- 
ther scream. For an hour Nat thus kept pacing 
his beat, stiauiing every nerve to catch any 
possible sign of an approaching foe. 

Suddenly the stillness was broken by the sharp 
soimd of a snapping twig. He stopped as sud- 
denly, and remained as motionless as if frozen 
to the ground; but not from fear or fright. For 
full three minutes he w^aited and listened with 
all his powers, but not another sound did he 
hear, all was as still as before. Yet he knew 
that the twdg was broken by some .approaching 
man or beast; wdiich he could not tell. 

Finally he detected a very sligjjt rustling m 
the bushes a few yards from the camp. He 
recognized at once the movements of a man or 
men approaching wdth great caution through the 
imderbrush. Without stopping to rouse his 
father or brother, he raised his r'fle and fired 
into the bushes, in the direction from whence 
the sound came; and springing to the side of the 
slumbering Elisha, he snatched up the smooth 
bore and sent its contents into the bushes before 
that drowsy youth was fairly awake. 

Instantly all was commotion m the little 
camp. The cattle snorted and struggled at their 
fastenings, w^hile the women cried cMit in alarm. 



Nat Foster. 1 1 9 

and little Sybil, in the distress of being thus 
rudely awakened, and also fear of the darkness, 
commenced to cry. Elisha sat up, and mildly 
asked in a hoarse whisper wha: was the inatter. 
Mr. Foster sprang to the side of his brave son, 
and asked if it was "Injuns." In a brief and 
hurried whisper, Nat explained to his father 
what he had heard in the bushes, and together, 
with cocked rifles, they waited for more mani- 
festations of the lurking foe. But farther than a 
great trampling and a snapping and cracking of 
the twigs and bushes, immediately ?iier Nat fired 
his charges, they heard nothing. Whether the 
foe was still concealed in the underbrush, only 
waiting for them to relax their vigilance before 
advancing, or whether he was killed, or had re- 
treated, they were unable to even guess. 

The remainder of the night w^as spent with 
the combined watchings of Mr. Foster and Nat, 
and even Elisha, who had been somewhat fright- 
ened and thoroughly awakened by his brother's 
rapid shots, now found no difficulty in keeping 
awake. The few remaining hours of the night 
passed without incident. And '-.s the gray dawn 
began to manifest itself, they breathed easier, 
waiting until broad daylight, however, l^efore 
they ventured to stir about or rouse the rest of 
the family. Upon going a few yards into the 



I20 Life and Adventures of 

bushes, they found them trampled and broken. 
Along the trail, which had evidently been made 
by their nocturnal visitors in tlieir retreat, there 
was a stream of blood, deeply dyeing the leaves 
and bushes, as far as they followed it. It gave 
unmistakable evidence that at )eabt one of the 
party, if not more, had been shot and borne 
away by companions. One or buth of Nat's 
shots had told. He had drawn his first blood 
from an Indian, if indeed he had not killed the 
warrior, for the blood-bespattered leaves and 
gory trail told plainly that it was tlie life blood 
of the wounded savage that was being shed. 

'1 reckon, Nat," said Mr. Foster, as he ex- 
amined the bloody trail, "that you made the dav- 
light shine through one or two oi the red devils." 

"But how could tnat be, dad: said the skep- 
tical Elisha, "Nat shot 'em in the dark." 

"Humph," said Mr. Foster, contemptuously 
"the daylight is a shinen througli 'em by this 
time anyhow, if that gore speaks for anything. 
I don't think this is a very healthy place for us 
to be a sojoiirning in so very long either," he 
continued, "the critters might come back and 
get revenge oil us. We'd better be gettin' out." 

So a hasty breakfast was cooked and eaten 
and the cattle brought from their browsing in 
the woods before they had halt finished their 



Nat Foster. 



121 



morning's feed. And before the sun had begun 
to cHmb the heavens, they left the place. 

In crossing the Hucison, the Fosters had fin- 
ished the hardest part of their journey. They 
were now entering the famous valley in which 
they intended to settle. Mr. Foster had deter- 
mined upon no particular place iur their loca- 
tion, but as they journeyed on towards the val- 
ley they received wonderful accounts from the 
settlers along their route, of the village of Johns- 
town, which had been settled before the war by 
Sir William Johnson. As Mr. Foster had also 
heard something of it while in these parts early 
in the war, he resolved to settle m that locality. 
Although it was not in the valley where he had 
at first intended to locate, he decided that Johns- 
town and its vicinity, being advantageous for 
hunting and fishing, as well as farming, would 
be better than the valley. So turning their 
course to the northwest, they puslied on until 
they came to the famous fish house l^uilt by Sir 
William, and here they decided to settle. 

Again Mr. Foster erected a little -^abin of logs, 
for his new home, although it was not destined 
to serve as long as the one he had built so many 
years before in New Hampshire. Having the 
sturdy strength ol his two oldest sons to assist 
9 



12 2 Life and Adventures of 

him this time, and that of his neiciihors as well, 
the cabin was built in a much shorter time. 

A wonderfully fraternal spirit prevailed among 
the settlers of those early times, and it was par- 
ticularly predominant aoout Johnstown. Sir 
William himself set the exanij)le in its early 
days, when he founded the town, and the settlers 
imbibed the spirit. So that whenever a new 
family came to those parts to build a home, a 
*'bee" was always inaugurated and a "log roll- 
ing" was had and a good serviceable cabin was 
built in a few days. With some further details, 
in the way of closing the cnmivs between the logs, 
the construction of a fireplace and chimney, and 
the hanging of the door, the house was all 
ready for occupancy. In rare cases, I have 
heard of such little matters as huild'ng a chim- 
ney and hanging a door being omitied entirely, 
smoke escaping through a hole in the roof and 
a deer's hide or other skin, covering the opening 
in the wall, which answered for a door. Of 
course these are exceptional instances, and set- 
tlers who were obliged to forego such necessary 
things as chimneys and doors must have been 
in very straitened circumstances. The new 
cabin of the Fosters, I am told, was comfort- 
ably finished, with one room on the ground, and 
a sleeping place above, under the roof. It also 
had a chimney and door. 




Such log cabins * * * were the houses of most of our forefathers. 



Nat Foster. 123 

Such log cabins, with their two simple apart- 
ments, were the homes of most of our forefathers. 
In such humble homes many of the present 
Americans' immediate ancestors weie born and 
reared. The families were neariy always large, 
many including members who liave become 
prominent in our country's history. 

The Fosters had lived in their new home less 
than two months ere destruction came to it from 
the hand of the savage Indian, together with the 
capture of Zilpha. It happened one afternoon 
when all the family, excepting Zilpha and Nat, 
were away to a bee being held for tlie benefit of 
another new family just arrived in the neigh- 
borhood. The Indians probably knowing this, 
undoubtedly laid their plans accordingly, and 
raided the Foster dwelling when they ex- 
pected tO' find no one but women or children 
about. Early in the afternoon Zilpha was en- 
gaged in washing the dishes after the noonday 
meal of herself and brother. Her work was on 
a bench under the shade of a tree just outside 
the cabin. Nat was inside engaged in cleaning 
some traps. 

After lurking about in the bushes at the edge 
of the woods and seeing no one about but the 
girl, the Indians stealthily made their way to- 
wards the cabin, and coming up behind the un- 



124 ^^^^ ^^^d Adventures of 

suspecting maiden, who was Miihely humming 
a httle air, they seized and gagged her before 
she could make a single outcry of alarm. The 
sudden cessation of her singing, however, at- 
tracted Nat's attention, and peering out of the 
cabin door, he was horrified to see his sister in 
the clutches of the red men. It took the lad but 
an instant tO' take in the situation. His first im- 
pulse was to rush out, or open fire from the 
cabin, and attempt to slay singlt handed all of 
his sister's captors. And no doubt, if here had 
been a rifle in the cabin, he would have rashly 
undertaken it. But the only fire-arm there w^as 
the old smoth bore, and even that old piece, 
though it had often done him and his brother 
good service in emergencies, ^vould not do to 
wipe out the ten or more Indians in the party. 
Here, Nat's quick perception of an awkward 
situation and the very best mode of action, which 
he ever afterwards manifested, vvas shown. The 
party was too strong for him to hope in any way 
to overcome single-handed. His only hope was 
in remaining undiscovered and, watching his 
chance, escape and warn the settler<i at the bee. 
All this flashed through his mind In an instant, 
and as he saw the Indians turn and come to- 
wards the cabin, he put it in action. At his feet 
was a trap door leading into a simple hole, dug 
under the cabin floor to serve as a cellar. 



Nat Foster. 125 

Lifting the door, he dropped into the hole 
and noiselessly closed it after him, just as the 
Indian in the lead stepped upon the threshhold. 
Then followed a half hour of agony and sus- 
pense. The Indians ransacked the cabin and 
searched even the loft, talking constantly in their 
own language. Every moment he feared they 
would notice the trap door and, investigating 
the hole underneath, discover Inm. But it es- 
caped their observation. 

The pleadings of his sister, as they ungagged 
her, beseeching them to let her go, nearly drove 
him frantic, and he could hardly restrain himself 
from leaping forth from his hiding place and 
throwing himself upon the Indians in a wild 
attempt to deliver her. But he restrained him- 
self and remained silent. He hardly dared to 
breathe as the Indians trampled over his head 
and paused at the trap door as if to lift it. At 
last they departed, taking the weeping girl with 
them. Nat cautiously lifted the door a trifle 
and looked out. The coast was clear, and he 
crawled up, very weak and shaky from his 
cramped position and restrained excitement. As 
he expected, he found that the Indians had fired 
the cabin before taking their departure, having 
started the fire in the loft, under the roof. It 
was a roaring furnace before he dared leave. 



126 Life and Adventures of 

He watched the Indians as they crossed the 
clearing and made for the woods. At last they 
disappeared in the foliage, an(l then, with a 
bound, he was out of the doomed cabin and 
speeding away like a deer to wain the settlers. 
He ran with terrific speed the wnole of the two 
miles, and was so- winded when he arrived that 
he could hardly speak. But he managed to gasp 
out — "Indians," "Cabin afire," and "Zilpha." The 
settlers instantly guessed the whole affair and 
the men began hastily to prepare for pursuit. 
As but few of the men had brought their guns 
(danger from the Indians being regarded as 
over) some little time was consumed in sending 
fleet boys to the various homes alter these very 
necessary weapons. 

Mr. Foster and Elisha had brouglit their rifles, 
thinking they might have an opportunity to 
shoot some game, and the old man could hardly 
be restrained from starting off alone in pursuit 
of the Indians. 

In a quarter of an hour's time ail were ready. 
Nat had sufficiently recovered his wind to head 
the party, and borrowing a gun started off again 
on a dog trot, which he kept up, setting the pace 
for the party until they arrived at the site of the 
Foster home. Nothing was left of the cabin but 
a smouldering heap of ashes. As they came in 
sight of it, young Nat's passions rose. 



Nat Foster. 127 

''Here," he exclaimed, "is my life's work, 
ril hate the red devils worse'n dad, and I'll shoot 
'em every chance I git." 

This passionate expression arose from the 
thought of his beautiful sister in the possession 
of the dusky red men. Although during his life 
he shot many Indians, yet he never seemed to 
harbor a particularly bitter feeling against them, 
nor made shooting them his life's work. No 
doubt this and other experiences, together with 
his father's instructions upon the subject, made 
him quite undervalue the life of an American 
Indian, and caused him to shoot them without 
hesitation, whenever they threatened his life or 
trespassed upon his rights. But for a ferocious 
and blood-thirsty character, we w'll have to look 
elsewhere; for, as I will endeavor to show in fol- 
lowing his life, he was possessed of a naturally 
kind disposition. He was liberal, even to the 
Indians, against whom he was now^ swearing 
eternal vengeance. 

The pursuing party paused but a moment at 
the site of the devastated home, and then Nat 
led the way tO' the place where the Indians had 
entered the woods. He took the lead himself, 
and assumed the responsibility of detecting and 
following their trail. At that early age the lad 
had already gained a reputation for keenness in 



128 Life and Adventures of 

following trails of deer, moose and other game. 
And now, as he set out for the first time on a 
genuine Indian's trail, his hunter's instinct was 
quickened by love for his sister, and hatred for 
her dusky captors. So there was nothing strange 
in his taking the lead over older and more ex- 
perienced men in the party, and unhesitatingly 
and unerringly following the faint and half blind 
trail, over hills, across streams and through 
marshes. The Indians had taken pains to cover 
their trail as much as possible. i)ut they could 
not coinceal it from the eagle eve of that lad 
whose instinct was sharpened by affection, and 
whose heart throbbed with a brother's love, 
while it also beat with hatred for their cowardly, 
detestable conduct. 

All the afternoon they followed the trail over 
the hills and through glens. At first rhey thought 
the Indians were carrying Zilpha, for no imprint 
of a shoe could be found on the trail. But after 
they had gone several miles, and had come to a 
little stream where they stopped to drink, one 
of the party found her shoes concealed in the 
ledge of a rock. Then they knew that the 
brutal savages were compelling her to w^alk with 
unprotected feet in order that she might not 
leave any mark of her leather shoes. Their be- 
lief in this theorv was confirmed, as some miles 



Nat Vaster. 129 

farther on, they found blood stains plainly made 
by footprints, on some rocks tlie Indians had 
gone over. They undoubtedly came from the 
bruised and bleeding feet of the fair Zilpha. 
Twice they found pieces of the hoiiH-^spun dress 
she wore clinging to the bushes. 

As the afternoon advanced, they (observed that 
the trail was growing fresher, and they had good 
hopes of overtaking and surprising the Indians. 
Nat finally proposed that they stop c.nd let him 
climb a tree to see if he could discover any signs 
of their camp fire. To this proposition they all 
agreed, and pausing, they watched Nat as he 
made his way to a little knoll in which stood a 
tall birch tree. He ascended as readily, if not 
as rapidly .as a squirrel. 

His position at the top commanded a fine view 
of the surrounding country. To the south lay 
the uneven land over which they had come, 
and to the north was a gentle vnlley, through 
which there evidently flowed a small creek. Be- 
yond the valley stretched the broken and hazy 
mountains, the refuge of the Indians. The trees 
of the forest presented, in every direction, an 
unbroken bank of green foliage. I'rom the cen- 
ter of the valley, less than two miles away, Nat 
observed a thin circle of smoke ascending from 
the tree tops, evidently coming from a very small 



130 Life and Adventures of 

fire. It was so faint that an unpracticed eye 
would not have noticed it. It undoubtedly 
marked the location of the Indians' camp, who 
were evidently preparing their supper from a 
very small fire, in order to make as little smoke 
as possible. 

Sliding down from his perch, Nat reported 
his observations and his opinion, to which they 
all agreed. The best mode of advancing upon 
the Indians was then discussed. It was thought 
that the Indians, fearing pursuit, would not stop 
long at their present location, but would push 
on as soon as they had eaten their supper in 
order to reach the mountains. So it was decided 
to advance at once to within a quaiter of a mile 
of their camp and then send scouts forward to 
reconnoiter. If they saw that liie Indians were 
making no preparations for remai}jmg during 
the night, they would attack them at once. But 
if, on the contrary, there was evicl-.-nce of their 
remaining, they would wait until it was dark and 
the Indians asleep, when the chauv^^s of success 
would be greater. 

They accordingly went carefully forward until 
they came to what they judged was a quarter of 
a mile from the creek where the Indians' camp 
must be, then they stopped and Nat and his. 
father went forward to look over the ground. 



Nat Foster. 131 

They came up, in the under'brusli, to the very 
edge of the bubbhng brook, with the Indians' 
camp directly opposite them, on the other bank. 
The warriors were seated on the ground before 
a tiny fire of sticks, eating some broiled venison 
and parched corn. Zilpha was bound to a tree 
a short distance away, but where the Indians 
could watch her. 

Father and son embraced each Other as they 
beheld the girl still alive, though she was in a 
pitiable condition. Her hair was disheveled, and 
her dress in tatters, while her stockings had been 
completely worn out and torn off by the rocks 
and bushes. Her feet were cut and bleeding. 

How to get Zilpha out of the ciutches of these 
fiends was the question. If they v/ere to sur- 
prise them without success, the first thing her 
captors would do would be to kill her. Strategy 
alone would be successful. 

The Indians were making no pr'^parations for 
the night, evidently intending to start on their 
journey again as soon as they had finished their 
meal. So what was to be done must be done 
quickly. Here it was that the experience Mr. 
Foster had had in the war came to his aid. 

The Indians' fire was in an opening in the 
woods and brush, a few yards from the bank of 
the creek flowing from west to east. The In- 



132 Life and Adventures of 

dians themselves were seated in a semi-circle 
around the fire, facing the stream, their backs to 
the north. Zilpha was Doimd to a tree by the 
bank of the stream at their left. Tlie old soldier 
immediately resolved to send a detachment of 
his party around to the west of the camp and 
have them come up and fire up^)n the Indians 
from the northwest, and on their rear. At the 
first volley the Indians, not disabled, would im- 
mediately seize their rirles and turn to open fire 
on the attacking party, taus giving the party on 
the south an opportunity to sally forth, discharge 
their pieces, and recover the giil. An exceed- 
ingly good bit of generalship on a small scale. 
Mr. Foster repeated these plans to Nat and then 
dispatched his boy to the waiting ones. He 
gave Nat the responsibility of fading the flank- 
ing party, while he was to send Elisha with the 
others to him. 

Nat hastened away and the old man was left 
alone. Only for a few moments, however, as he 
was quickly joined by the men Nat had sent 
him. Together they waited in silence, communi- 
cating only by signs or whispers, ready to spring 
from their hiding place as soon as Nat's party 
engaged the Indians' attention from the rear. 
In a short time Mr. Foster's eye, r iiough dimmed, 
caught the gleam of the polishe..! barrel of a rifle 



Nat Foster. 133 

in the hands of one of the flanking party in the 
bushes away to the rear of the unsuspecting In- 
dians. The latter, by this time, had finished 
eating and were already beginning to tighten up 
their belts preparatory to resuming their journey. 

Signalling tO' his companions, Mr. Foster 
cocked his rifle and all prepared to spring from 
their covert. Suddenly a sheet of flame shot out 
from the bushes behind the seated Indians, and 
the reports of six rifles rang upon the air. Four 
of the Indians never rose from the ground. 
Those who were left alive spring to their feet 
with rifles poised; but before they could fire, 
Mr. Foster and his men were •")ut of the thicket 
with a yell, discharging their pieces at the In- 
dians as they rushed towards the bound and now 
struggling girl. This volley left but five of the 
Indians alive, and as Nat and his party rushed 
into view with a whoop and a yell, they turned 
and ran into the brush. 

Tne father and brothers rushed simultaneously 
towards Zilpha. Mr. Foster w ,s so overjoyed 
that he could only fall on his daughter's neck 
and weep. But Nat quickly cut the thongs which 
bound her, and tenderly kissing her, said : "You 
see, sis, I didn't sneak into that hole for nothing, 
did I?" 

Night was coming on and the party must 



134 ^^^^ ciJ^d Adventures of 

make haste back to the settlements. Gathering 
up the rifles and implements of the dead Indians, 
they started. They had brouo^ht the shoes of 
the captive, and, after bathing- her feet, she put 
them on and stood the long tran.ip to the settle- 
ment very well. They reached ii long after 
dark, but found all the settlers waiting anxiously 
for them; and great was the rejoicing at the re- 
turn of the fair Zilpha, who, for her grace of 
manners and beauty of countei-ance, was already 
a favorite in the settlement. 

The Foster home was soon rebuilt, and as be- 
fore, on the edge of the forests. Not even this 
serious occurrence could scare the hardy old 
soldier or his brave family away. They were 
never again molested by the Indians, but their 
days spent in peace and prosperity. 

The only other melancholy feature of this raid 
by the Indians was the destruction of the very 
famous old smooth bore rifle. Elisha particu- 
larly mourned its loss; to him it had been a 
constant companion, and for whom it had fre- 
quently done invaluable service in delivering 
him from great personal danger at the last ex- 
tremity. The old fowling piece, as I have men- 
tioned, was the only firearm in the cabin at the 
time the Indians made their raid, and they had 
either overlooked it, or did not consider it worth 



Nat Foster. 



135 



carrying away. Only its warped and twisted 
barrel was found in the ashes of the home. Thus 
lamentably ended the career of the famous old 
gun, which had figured so conspicuously in the 
early history of the boys. 

The residence of the Foster iamiiy at Johns- 
town marked the development of the boys and 
girls into men and women, and the addition of 
four children to the household. The following 
children were born after the fan^ly settled at 
Johnstown, or more properly the Fish House. 
Elihu in 1784, Polly in 1788, Lydia in 1791, and 
Shubal in 1795. The last named son afterwards 
figured in several adventures with his brother 
Nat. Zilpha's hand was won by a gallant swain 
of the neighborhood, and Elisha's heart was 
smitten by a fair daughter of the settlement. Her 
he married. 

This "stepping off" of his brother made Nat 
feel rather blue at first. But as their hunting 
and trapping excursions were ir; be continued 
as before, he expressed himself as satisfied. 

Thus was Nat matured under the sturdy dis- 
cipline, yet free life of a hunter and trapper. He 
seldom allowed a month to go by without taking 
his gun and dog and going for a tramp of two 
or three days in the wilderness in pursuit of 
game. Farming was always irksome to him, 



136 Lite and Adventures of 

though he never neglected to help his father 
with the farm work, particularly during seed 
time and harvest. He never neglected his own 
farm when he came to possess one. But as soon 
as fall and winter approached he would bring 
forth his traps and snares, and rubbing off the 
coat of tallow that had been put on in the spring 
to keep them from rusting, he laid out and car- 
ried on his work for the winter. l\'JaD3^ and varied 
were his experiences during the years spent 
under the paternal roof at Johnstown. 

But realizing that I must omit many details of 
his interesting life, let me pass on to the time 
when he reached man's estate. 



CHAPTER VIIL 



NAT was a large muscular fellow when he 
attained his majority. He possessed the 
peculiarity of having double or molar teeth all 
around his jaws; and being double jointed, with 
other peculiarities, which gave him great 
strength. His early life had been, as we have 
seen, one of hardships, with frequent encounters 
with ferocious wild animals and a number of 
encounters with the still wild Indian. All of 
this, coupled with the entire absence of educa- 
tion, (which it was impossible for him to get 
when a lad) made him adapted to a life of daring 
adventure and exciting exploits that would test 
the nerve and muscle of a man. 

He once said of himself that when he was 
twenty-one he was ready to measure his strength 
with any man, no matter what color, "whether 
vv'hite, black or red." He had inherited his 
father's huge frame; this, with his vigorous toil 
in the fields, extensive tramps in the woods w4ien 
growing, together with the muscular peculiarity 
noted, made him at this time the possessor of 



138 Life and Adventures of 

unusual strength and endurance, and endowed 
him with dauntless courage, almost bordering 
on recklessness. Foster has given an interesting 
account of an adventure which occurred in his 
twenty-first year and has been preserved by the 
family tradition, and which I will give in pre- 
sumably his own words. 

"It was in the month of August," he was wont 
to say, ''and work on father s farm being slack, 
and I twenty-one, thought it time to begin to 
think of striking out for myself. So I went on a 
tramp north, deep in the woods, for the purpose 
of selecting a route for hunting and trapping 
in the fall and winter. I filled my pack basket 
with provisions and with my rifle and my faith- 
ful bitch dog Rose by my side, who could scent 
.any kind of a varmit a mile away, I started off. 
I soon found I could kill and secure all the game 
I wished, but it wasn't late enough in the season 
for prime fur. I tramped into the great wilder- 
ness as far as Piesco Lake, where I proposed to 
make my camp for the fall and winter's hunt. 
After constructing a log camp on the shore of 
the lake, which took me a couple of days, I 
started back for home on the morning of the 
third day, intending to reach there by the follow- 
ing night. I tramped leisurely along in the fore- 
noon, stopping to note favorable streams and 



Nat Foster. 139 

places to locate my traps during the coming sea- 
son. I stopped for a considerable of a spell at 
Sacandaga river and its vicinity, and it was the 
middle of the afternoon before I thought of 
starting ofT homeward in real earnest. Finally 
I started of¥, walking merrily along, congratu- 
lating myself on the pleasantness of the trip. 
No Indians to bother me and lots of game, 
though not prime. I only killed one deer and 
that was to get its saddle, to add fresh meat to 
my lardei 

"As I was thus engaged in these pleasant 
reveries, my dog suddenly commenced to growl, 
while every hair on her back pointed straight 
towards her head. I asked her if there was any 
game around and she only growled the more. 
Then I asked her if it was Injuns, and she came 
close up to me and looked up to my face as 
much as to say yes. So I sat down on a log 
among some bushes and listened. I couldn't see 
or hear a thing, yet I knew from my dog's ac- 
tion that some kind of varmints was around, 
and from her actions I suspected it was Injuns. 
I waited and listened, I guess, fifteen minutes 
before I heard anything. Then I heard the 
footsteps of someone approaching. My faith- 
ful dog at my command ceased growling, but 
crowded close to me, all the while on nettles, 
and shaking from excitement. 



140 Life and Adventures of 

"I was situated on the top of a small knoll, 
just above the river. The noise of the approach- 
ing footsteps came along the bank of the river 
from the west on the same side I was on. In a 
few minutes I saw three Indians coming up the 
bank of the river. But I kept perfectly still, 
and thought I would let the red devils pass. I 
quickly noted that there was only one gun in 
the party and I could easily have cleaned out 
the three of them by first picking ofif the one 
that carried the gun. But I thought if they be- 
haved themselves I would not molest them, 
though I ached to crack 'em, for I had particu- 
larly" hated the race ever sence they captured 
Zilpha. But I didn't know as these particular 
three had ever done me or my folks any harm, 
so I let them alone. They passed by the foot 
of the knoll where me and my dog were con- 
cealed, and proceeding on down the stream a few 
rods, they commenced to build a fire and make a 
camp. After watching them a little while I com- 
menced to think of slipping off, when to my 
surprise, I saw two more of the red devils com- 
ing down the river bank. They walked in In- 
dian file, and as they passed me, I was dum- 
founded to see a white child apparently eight or 
nine years old, walking between them. It was 
tired out, and as it lagged, the Indian behind 



Nat Foster. 141 

it would strike it with the handle of his hatchet. 
I couldn't tell at first whether it was a boy or 
girl, with its clothes torn off, but from its long 
hair I calculated it was a little girl. 

"You can imagine my feelings. I instantly 
thought of my sister whom I had assisted in res- 
cuing from the Indians five years before. And 
here was some one else's sister, of far more ten- 
der years than was mine, at the mercy of these 
savage brutes. I immediately determined to get 
the girl out of their clutches or die in the at- 
tempt. I noted that the red devil in the lead car- 
ried a gun. My first impulse was to shoot him 
on the spot. But I instantly recollected that the 
one in the rear would sink his tomahawk into 
the head of the child the moment I fired, so I 
kept still. Tney came up to the camp and the 
child, although nearly helpless from fatigue, 
w^as bound to a tree. Then all five of the red 
skins went on building their camp, cutting 
boughs and gathering firewood. As it grew dark 
their fire was replenished, and as it burned up 
it lighted up the whole of the camp. I saw the 
villains very plainly as they lounged on their 
boughs eating their venison, giving a few mor- 
sels to the child, but making no offers to release 
the poor thing from her strained position. 



142 Life and Adventures of 

''All the while I was setting my wits to work 
how to get the child. I knew very well that I 
had an all night's job on my hands. But to get 
possession of the captive, I resolved to do or 
die. I w'as thirty miles from home, from any 
settlement, in fact; and nothing around me but 
wild beasts and this band of red savages. 

"The first thing I did after it got quite dark, 
was to carry my pack basket about a mile down 
the trail towards home. There I left it and my 
dog to guard it and returned to my former posi- 
tion on the hill. This took me probably half an 
hour. When I got back I saw by the light of the 
fire that the Injuns had rolled themselves in their 
blankets. I waited for an hour, until the fire 
had burnt very low and I judged the Injuns 
were asleep. Then I commenced to work up 
towards their camp, using the utmost caution, 
for an Injun always sleeps with one eye open. 
But in spite of my care, when I had got up close 
tO' their camp, and was settling down to take 
further observations, a stick I had unwittingly 
placed my foot on snapped with a loud report. 
In an instant all five of them Injuns were on 
their feet and yelling as only their kind of the 
human race can, as they give their whoup 
of surprise or alarm. But I was not the only 
creature prowling about their camp, and taking 



Nat Foster. 143 

observations, for the whoop of the red devils, 
as they sprang to their feet and seized their 
guns and hatchets, startled a huge panther that 
was in a tree right over their heads. He, too, 
it seems, had been sneaking up to the camp, 
only he had been more successful than I had 
been in approaching without disturbing the 
slumbering savages. As the Injuns yelled the 
beast gave an aw^ful scream and sprang into the 
bushes on the opposite side of the camp to me, 
and all five of the red skins rushed pell niell 
into the bushes after him, supposing he was the 
one that had disturbed them. This mistake was 
my opportunity. As they plunged into the 
darkness, I rushed forward and quickly cutting 
the thongs which bound the little girl, took her 
into my arms and told her not to cry and I 
would take her back to her folks, and hurried 
away. Providence had been kind and provided 
a way which was very wonderful to me, to get 
the child without any struggle with her captors. 
With these thoughts in my mind I carried her 
to my basket and dog, sooner than any Injun 
could have gone without any load to carry. I 
set the child down by the basket and listened, 
but could hear nothing. But still I knew this 
was a race for life. I knew the red devils would 
return to their camp in a very few moments 



144 -^^^^ ^^^ Adventures of 

after leaving it, for if they did not shoot the pan- 
ther right away they would let it go. I had 
heard no gun, so I knew that by this time they 
had returned and found their captive gone. 
Probably they were already on my trail. 

''My pack basket was a good-sized one and I 
decided to carry the child in that. Throwing 
out everything but my blanket, I arranged that 
in the shape of a seat. Then I put the child in 
the basket and strapped it on my back and tell- 
ing the poor thing to stop crying, (for she was 
weeping in a quiet sort of way), and go to sleep, 
if she could, I started off for civilization, picking 
my way as best I could and covering up my 
trail as much as possible. How soon the red 
devils would be upon me I did not know, but I 
relied on my dog to tell me. By daylight I 
judged I had covered some six or eight miles. 
I entered a gap or small valley between tv/o 
hills as the sun commenced to rise. I began to 
think by this time that a few moments rest and 
a bite of breakfast would give me strength, for 
the Injuns had cheated me out of my supper 
the night before. So I concluded to go up one 
of those little ravines, washed out by water rush- 
ing down a hill in the spring, for I could conceal 
my trail better on the pebbles and stones. So I 
made my way up one of the gorges about twenty 



Nat Foster. 145 

rods and set down my basket and helped the girl 
from her cramped position. I had only reserved 
a piece of bread and a bit of cold venison from 
the provisions I threw away, and about half a 
pint of rum in a pocket flask. Dividing the 
meat between the dog and the child, I munched 
the bread and drank some of the spirits and felt 
much refreshed. 

"As we ate our breakfast I questioned the 
girl, and found that her name was Mary French 
and that she was ten years old, but she was small 
for her age. Her home, she said, was near 
Johnstown. And that she with several children 
had gone into the woods the day before to 
gather blackberries, and while she was sep- 
arated from the others the Indians had suddenly 
appeared and carried her off before she could 
give any alarm. This accounted for the leisurely 
manner the Indians had journeyed. For the 
little one being secretly captured, her people 
w^ould think her lost, and so would not be so apt 
to discover their trail and follow them. 

''As I was thinking of starting on again, my 
dog commenced to growl and tremble with ex- 
citement. I knew that the red devils were at last 
on my track and very near me. I knew, too, if 
there was going to be a fight, my position was 
a good one. But I decided to keep still and let 



146 Life and Adventures of 

them pass if they would, for with the child on 
niv hands, I did not want to commence a fieht 
five to one. And, too, I knew that the child's 
people must soon be on the Indians' trail, if 
they were any kind ol hunters at all, and must 
be that way before long. 

"Soon two of the Injuns went past on a dog- 
trot. One had a gun and the other his knife 
and hatchet. I let them, pass for I very well 
knew that if I commenced the fight they would 
soon know that I was alone, and if I didn't suc- 
ceed in wiping them all out at once, they would 
lay by and wait for me to give up, if it took them 
a week. In a few minutes the other three hove 
in sight, going at the same pace as the others. 
They were looking at the ground, trying to fol- 
low my trail, but it was a hard one to follow. 
They did not discover it leading into the gulch 
where I was, but passed on. I don't know how 
far they went, but in a few moments they came 
back, looking for my trail. They finally found 
it at the foot of the hill, and started up the gorge 
where I was. I concluded that now was the 
time for action. The little one commenced to 
cry at the sight of the dreadful fiends coming 
up the ravine, but I hushed her up and told her 
to keep still, and I would send them back ta 
Canada, which I did, as you shall see. 



Nat Foster. 147 

"The red skins, intent on studying my foot- 
prints among the loose pebbles, were half way 
up the gulch before I made a move. They were 
in single file, the first one carrying the gun. 
Now I cocked my rifle and thought I would see 
what a shot would do in the way of 'scaring' 
them ofif. I fired, and the leader dropped his 
firearm. The other two stood still a minute to 
locate my position, I suppose, and I quickly 
loaded and fired again. With that the red devil 
last in the line turned and ran for all he was 
worth towards Piesco Lake ; and I hastily loaded 
and fired again in his direction, just to help him 
along; but I did not follow him. Like enough 
he got there; and maybe they all got back to 
Canada, but I know they did not come any far- 
ther up the gorge. We kept quiet for a while,, 
the child, the dog and myself, but finally we 
heard a gun fired not more than a quarter of a 
mile away. Soon another and still another shot 
was fired, and then I immediately began to pre- 
pare to fire return shots, for three shots were the 
signals in those days, when people were looking 
for lost children. I fired my three shots and they 
were answered at once. Then I was sure that 
some of little Mary's friends were in the vicinity. 
So putting her in my basket again, I started ofif, 
and after more shots and some hallooing wc got 



148 Life and Adventures of 

together. Little Mary's father was in the party 
and their meeting was a joyful one." 

In some such a manner as this Nat w^as wont 
to narrate his adventures in after years to his 
grand-children, one of which he w^as particularly 
fond of, and when the lad was six or seven years 
old, and he an old man, he w^ould amuse the 
child for hours by telling him adventures like 
the above. And by reason of this custom of his, 
I am enabled to give so many details of his life, 
they being preserved in the memory of his 
grand-children. 

In spite of this serious brush with the Indians 
in the then great wilderness about the Sacan- 
daga River, I am told that the young hunter 
went on his contemplated hunting and trapping 
excursion to Piesco Lake the following fall, and 
spent a most profitable season, the first of many 
subsequent ones, hunting and trapping for busi- 
ness and pleasure. It was in his twenty-first 
year that young Nat first met Nicholas Stoner, 
another famous hunter and trapper of Northern 
New^ York. Stoner was a few years older than 
Nat, but the young man's straight and sturdy 
frame, together wath his being partial for hunt- 
ing, and his manly ways, won at once the ad- 
miration and lasting friendship of Stoner. From 
their first meeting they were w'arm friends, and 



Nat Foster. 149 

often companioned together in tramps and 
hunts, and other occasions, as the following in- 
cident will show. It was the year after Nat's 
skirmish with the Indians, just narrated, that he 
consented to pay a visit with Stoner to a 
village on the Sacandaga River, to par- 
ticipate in some sports and games to be held 
there on "Independence Day," as the Fourth of 
July was always called in those days. 

Stoner had so much confidence in the superior 
strength and ability of his new friend that he 
was sure he would easily carry of¥ all the honors 
of the day. Young Foster and his companion 
reached St. Johnsville in the early part of the 
forenoon of the day of sports, for Independence 
Day was distinctively a day of sports, as it was 
never allowed to pass without games of foot 
racing, jumping and wrestling being on the pro- 
gramme. Nat's appearance with Stoner, who 
was well known in the village, created no little 
surprise and interest. The young man, straight 
as an arrow .and over six feet tall, was dressed 
in a striking costume gotten up by Stoner for the 
occasion. He wore a heavy hunting shirt, laced 
with thongs of deerskin. His tnighs were cov- 
ered with a pair of buckskin breeches, supported 
at the waist by a wide belt of leather, while a 
pair of leggings and moccasins of buckskin^ 



150 Life and Adventures of 

neatly worked and beaded, covered his feet and 
legs. This costume was completed by a cocked 
hat of the times. He was at once the most con- 
spicuous figure of the assembled crowds. The 
sports were opened with a free-for-all foot race 
of forty rods; the best six in the race were to 
run two more heats, and the prize given to the 
winner in the last heat or run. Nat took his 
place with the motley crowd that prepared to run 
the first time. But following the private advice 
of his friend, he only kept up with the leaders, 
and apparently was no better than the ordinary 
when the dash was finished. And in the second 
run, he only came out a foot ahead of the others. 
But it was in the third heat that he was to show 
himself as one of extraordinary speed, though 
he was already exciting great interest, and many 
inquiries were made as to who this strange young 
man, clad in buckskin, was. Stoner would not 
give his name to any of his friends, and Nat him- 
self, in obedience to Stoner's instructions, would 
tell no one. He would only say that his name 
was Leatherstocking, and that he came from a 
long distance through the woods. A very sig- 
nificant fact which I will show later. 

An old gentleman of the village approached 
him and respectfully asked him his name and 
where from, but Nat gave him only an evasive 



Nat Foster. 151 

answer, though something in the old man's ap- 
pearance and manner attracted his attention, and 
he thought he had seen him before. But as Nat 
had never been in the village before, he con- 
cluded it was only a fancy, and forgot all about 
it, particularly as the third and last call for the 
foot race was now being announced. The six 
contestants c^uickly placed themselves in line. 
There was no ''fixing up" in those days or strip- 
ping and rubbing down if sprinters, for they ran 
in their ordinary clothes, discarding their coat 
and hat. Stoner, knowing well how this last run 
would terminate, resolved to prepare an even 
greater surprise for the assembly than would be 
afiforded by Nat's mere winning the race. So he 
found a long pole and going to the end of the 
race course, he took up his position there and 
placed one end of the pole on his own shoulder, 
while he got another man to support it at the 
other end, thus making a hurdle five feet in 
height. When the word was given to start Nat 
gave a bound which placed his competitors in 
the rear, and distancing them all, he dashed over 
the course and cleared the pole with a mighty 
leap, before the other runners had gone over 
half the course. Naturally the young stranger 
was loudly cheered as he returned to the start- 
ing place accompanied by Stoner, and he was 



152 Life and Adventures of 

immediately led away to receive the prize, which 
w^as a beaded cap made by the young ladies of 
the village. It was presented to him by a hand- 
some young woman, who modestly but pleas- 
antly asked the victor his name. Nat received 
the cap with a graceful bow, but as before, de- 
clined to give his name, merely answering that 
he came from a long distance through the woods. 

But for all he gave such a quiet answer, his 
mind was turbulent and confused, for he was 
certain he had seen the young woman's face be- 
fore, but where or when he could not imagine; 
but concealing his confusion as much as possi- 
ble, he turned and walked away with Stoner. 

Nat was not able to hide his excitement from 
his friend, however, who thought he had been 
smitten by the fair face of the girl, for he inmie- 
diately began to tease him by telling him how 
the girl was smitten too. 

"Do you really think she knew me?" asked 
Nat very innocently. 

''Know you," said Stoner, "how could she 
know you, when you've been in the woods all 
your life; why she is a daughter of that old fel- 
low that spoke to you after the second heat,*' he 
continued, all unconscious of the excitement his 
announcement was stirring up in the heart of 
his friend. 



Nat Poster. 153 

But Nat kept his excitement and his own 
thoughts to himself, and turned the conversation 
to other subjects. There were a number of other 
sports to take place, but he no longer had a de- 
sire to participate in them, for he could only 
think of the fair face of the girl whose hands had 
placed the cap on his head. He took it off re- 
peatedly to examine it, and wondered as he 
looked at the marvelous needlework, how much 
of it had been done by her own fingers. In the 
afternoon the wTestling matches were to take 
place. There were many calls for the young 
stranger who wore the leather leggins, and 
there was a loud hurrah as Nat appeared in the 
crowd. But still he did not wish to take part 
in any of the matches, but said he would rather 
look on. There were two or three bouts be- 
tween some of the younger lads of the village, 
and then a big burly fellow, known in the village 
for his prowess, stepped into the ring and chal- 
lenged any one in the assembly to engage with 
him, but no one responded, for the challenger 
was too well known in the village as a wrestler. 
He repeated his challenge, and as no one re- 
sponded, this feature of the day's sports promised 
to be very tame; until some one suggested that 
the stranger take hold. But Nat shook his head 
decisively as the fellow in the ring bawled out: 
"Yes, bring on the bully and I will meet him." 



154 J-if^ CL^d Adventures of 

This taunt was too much for Nat, and with his 
cheeks burning with indignation and his eyes 
flashing, he stepped forward and asked the con- 
ditions of the match. "Collar and elbow, best 
two in three, you fool," blurted out his antag- 
onist, who was plainly spoiling for a fray. Nat 
paid noi attention to^ this sally, but pausing at 
the edge of the ring, spoke up in a clear voice 
and said: "Gentlemen, there will be no hard- 
ness on my part if this man throws me, and if I 
am lucky enough to throw him he must bear no 
ill-will towards me, on no other terms will I 
enter the ring." The eager crowd quickly 
answered an agreement to this with shouts of 
"Go on, go on." Nat tightened his belt and 
handed his prize cap, which he was still wearing, 
to Stoner, who whispered to his friend to be 
sure and preserve the honor of the cap ; and with 
a ctieery "never fear," Nat stepped into the ring. 
The man our hero was to meet was about thirty 
years old; he was six feet and two inches in 
height, in fact, a perfect giant to behold. Nat 
in spite of his own height, looked small beside 
him. To all appearances the old wrestler had the 
advantage, as he himself probably firmly be- 
lieved. But Nat was as spry as a cat, and his 
double joints gave him the strength of tw^o men; 
but all this was unknown to his antagonist, who 



Nat Foster. 155 

was regarded as the best wrestler in all the coun- 
try. He had no idea that this strange lad, who 
came from no one knew where, would be any- 
thing but a plaything in his hands. But he was 
soon to be undeceived. 

The first remark made by "Sandy," as the fel- 
low was called, w^as, "Young man, what is your 
weight?" 

"One hundred and eighty pounds, sir," an- 
swered Nat, respectfully, "and now, sir," he 
continued, "you will please to give me your 
avoirdupois." 

"Two hundred and sixteen pounds," promptly 
answered Sandy. "And wdiy do you ask," he 
continued, eyeing Nat curiously. 

"Oh, I just thought I would know how much 
I've got to lift, that's all," was Nat's cool reply. 

"Young man," said Sandy, "you wont lift that 
weight to-day ; the proof of the pudding is in the 
eating; come on." 

"So you sa3^" retorted Nat, as he approached 
his opponent. 

The sport began; step by step they ap- 
proached each other and finally got down to real 
work, when Nat put his foot at his antagonist's 
knee and Sandy gave a trip and twitch calculated 
to throw Nat: But he was prepared for this; 



156 Life and Adventures of 

the trip did not reach, and Nat landed Sandy- 
flat on his back. 

The hurrah that went up from the crowd was 
deafening. 

"Sandy is down, Sandy is down," was the cry. 
The two hundred and sixteen pounds had been 
Hfted very easily. In a few moments order was 
restored, and Sandy, anxious to redeem him- 
self, shouted, "Come on, boy, come on, 1 will 
shovv you that mistakes wall happen to the best 
of men." 

They now engaged in the second match. Nat 
did not wait for any false moves this time, but 
showed his great and superior strength by step- 
ping on Sandy's toe and lifting him from the 
ground, when he threw him on his back again. 

By this time Sandy was in a rage. And not 
satisfied with the result, wanted to try again. 
But Nat said: "No; twice is enough, for its the 
best two in three, you know, and I've had that."" 
But still Sandy insisted; but Nat declared it 
would not be according to the terms, for it 
would then be "three out of three." 

"Oh, don't be so sure, my lad," retorted 
Sandy, "just come on and I will show you I was 
only fooling." 

*'No," 'answered Nat, "you would not be sat- 
isfied, an\'how." 



Nat Foster. 157 

Then Sandy wanted to fight. But at this Nat 
told him he would probably come out second 
best as he had already done. With that Sandy 
called Nat a coward, and such other hard names, 
that it required his best efforts to keep cool. 

At last Sandy said if Nat would take only one 
"back hold" with him he would be satisfied. 
Now this was Nat's favorite hold, so he imme- 
diately told Sandy that if that would satisfy him, 
he would consent. In less than a minute the 
two contestants were together. Sandy, no doubt, 
thought he was the strongest of the two, and if 
he had gotten Nat down he probably intended to 
punish him to his satisfaction before the crowd 
interfered. But such was not the case, for Nat's 
peculiar build enabled him to settle the affair 
very quicklv. He approached Sandy, gave "fond 
embrace" for about a quarter of a minute, and 
then let go, when Sandy fell to the ground in a 
heap, bleeding from the nose. 

This settled the wrestling. Nat was at once 
the hero of the day, and the crowd, cheering 
loudly, were preparing to carry him triumphantly 
to the tavern, when a great commotion was ob- 
served in another crowd of the villagers on the 
river bank, and the cry reached them of "a man 
and woman in the water." Hearing this, Nat 
sprang from the shoulders of the men and ran as 
only he could, to the river. There he saw a boat 



158 Life and Adventures of 

bottom side up, and two persons, a man and a 
woman, struggling in the water. The man was 
just able to keep his head above the surface and 
struggle weakly towards the bank, while the 
woman was being swept away by the current. 
She sank as he was looking, and as she ap- 
IDeared again, Nat recognized the face of the 
young woman who had excited his interest in 
the morning; and as she sank for the third time, 
he plunged into the stream and reached her, 
only by diving and groping for her on the muddy 
bottom of the river. He made his way to the 
bank with the girl in his arms, and tenderly as- 
sisted in carrying her to a house. He knew 
who she was now. From two little telltale moles 
on her neck he was convinced that it was none 
other than Mary Wilson, the friend and sweet- 
heart of his childhood; and the old gentleman 
who had spoken to him in the morning, who 
had been rescued by' others from the river, was 
her father, who had on one occasion so ill- 
treated him when he was a lad. As soon as he 
learned that their name was Wilson, thus know- 
ing that his convictions were true, he started 
for home, in spite of the protestations of his 
friend Stoner. 

As soon as i\Ir. Wilson recovered from his 
ducking he sent for the stranger and hero of 



Nat Foster. 159 

the day to reward him for his crowning act of 
gallantry and bravery, but of course, he was no- 
where to be found. 

Months afterward, he learned who Nat was, 
and sent a message to him, telling him he re- 
membered with regret his treatment of him at 
one time in his boyhood, and offering him any 
reward he might ask for the service he had ren- 
dered him in saving his only daughter. It is 
said Nat sent back word that he was welcome 
to the service he had rendered, but that the 
treatment he had received at his hands could 
never be forgotten. 

Foster was once asked later in his life why he 
did not claim the girl as a reward, and he said 
he could not marry the daughter of a Tory. 
But no doubt the truth was that, with his natural 
wisdom and discernment of the fitness of things, 
he recognized the wide difference between him 
and Mary Wilson, in education and culture, 
which was not so marked when they were chil- 
dren together. At all events he did not appear 
to possess any lasting sentimental thoughts for 
her who was the companion of his childhood, 
and in a couple of years after this incident mar- 
ried another woman, who for fifty years was his 
faithful helpmeet. 



CHAPTER IX. 



T the age of twenty-three or four (his exact 
'®1 age we are unable to ascertain) Nat followed 
the example of his brother Elisha and "commit- 
ted matrimony." The young w^onian he selected 
for his partner in life was Jemima Streeter, 
daughter of one Amos Streeter. Jeptha R. 
Simms, in a short sketch of the life of our hero 
in his book, ''Trappers of New York," copy- 
righted in 1850, makes the statement that Miss 
Jemima was a New Hampshire lass; but we are 
authoritatively informed by descendants of Fos- 
ter, that she w^as a New York girl, and that she 
came from St. LawTence county, her father 
being a justice of that county. The details of 
Nat's courtship and marriage are very meager, 
so meager in fact, that I have none at all. But 
as this event in its generalities is the same in the 
life of any man, be he prince or pauper, we can 
well aflford to pass over this feature of his life 
and meet him again as he is settled on his own 
farm at Salisbury, Herkimer county. New York. 
In person he was, as I have mentioned, about 



Nat Foster. i6i 

six feet tall, erect and strongly built, possessing 
a muscular frame that seemed well adapted for 
enduring the fatigues of the chase. His features 
were commanding, though not handsome. His 
eyes were blue and had a merry twinkle. Long 
before his face would relax into a smile, his ex- 
pressive eyes would tell of the approaching man- 
ifestation of pleasure. This pleasant peculiarity 
he retained all through his life. 

The country around his new home at Salis- 
bury was mostly a wilderness and alive with 
game. Indeed, one of the chief reasons, we may 
believe, for his leaving the associations of his 
relation, and with his young wife seeking a new 
home farther in the wilderness, was that he 
might follow with greater success his favorite 
avocation, hunting and trapping. 

From the time he settled at Salisbury, until 
the tragedy at the Old Forge in his old age, he 
followed the fortunes of a hunter with marked 
success. In justice to him I must state that all 
through his long career he never neglected his 
farm at Salisbury. In a few years after his set- 
tlement there he possessed a farm of one hun- 
dred and fifty acres, which received his careful 
attention. He grew annually good-sized crops 
of grain. Wheat, buckwheat, rye and oats being 
among the cereals he raised. He would always 



1 62 Life and Adventures of 

sell his surplus grain at a reasonable figure, pay- 
ing no attention to the market prices for these 
commodities, though always posted on the mar- 
ketable value of furs and pelts. Very often, I 
am told, when the prices of grain were high, and 
the winters severe, he would load a sleigh with 
bags of grain, and going about the surrounding 
country, give a couple of bags to every poor 
family whose home he passed, and in the spring 
any one could get seeding from him for nothing,, 
if he had it to spare. 

For a long time he conducted an "ashery" for 
the making of potash in connection with his 
farming, employing men to collect the ashes and 
do the work for him. Wood being the only fuel 
of the time, wood ashes were plentiful and easily 
obtained. From them was made the potash re- 
ferred to. The ashes were put in leaches, simply 
old barrels or boxes with troughs underneath; 
water was then filtered through them which, 
after soaking through the ashes, ran from the 
troughs a stong lye. The lye thus obtained was 
then boiled down and poured into pot shaped 
moulds, from whence the name pot-ash was ob- 
tained. These crystals were then shipped to 
Albany, where the material was manufactured 
into pearl ash and soda ash. He also had a large 
fish pond on his farm where he kept trout that 



Nat Foster. 163 

he might always be able to give his friends a 
treat when they visited him by serving fresh 
trout at some meal. 

I mention these various facts connected 
with his farm to show that he was an industrious, 
benevolent citizen, and in no sense a shiftless, 
indolent hunter and trapper. His excursions 
into the woods every autumn and w^intcr for 
hunting and trapping were matters of business 
fully as much as pleasure for him. For thirty 
years he thus lived at Salisbury, leading the life 
of a hunter, trapper and farmer. He raised a 
large family of children, for whom he provided 
carefully and conscientiously. 

When he settled at Salisbury he could neither 
read nor write. But some time after his settle- 
ment there, one of the storekeepers of the village 
taught him tO' write his name, and from this 
accomplishment he branched out into arithmetic 
and reading, mastering the rudiments of both, 
with the help of the storekeeper and his wife. 

In a year or two after he settled at Salisbury, 
his father and brother Elisha moved from the 
east and settled with their families in the same 
town, so that Nat took up his hunting again 
with Elisha, though it does not appear that they 
companioned in this pursuit as much as before; 
but his youngest brothers, Elihu and ShubaeU 



t64 Life and Adventures of 

very frequently accompanied him in his hunt- 
ing- and trapping excursions deep into the 
forests. 

At the time Nat emigrated to Herkimer 
county, game was so abundant that with his 
fondness for the sport, together with the induce- 
ments offered for hunting by the bounties paid 
for wolves, black bears and panthers, his pursuit 
of game was a source of great profit. He began 
his pioneer residence in the winter and by spring 
he had taken enough fur, mostly beaver, I am 
told, to purchase a cow and many articles neces- 
sary to housekeeping and farming. He after- 
wards obtained yearly large quantities of valu- 
able fur, such as beaver, otter, martin, fisher and 
muskrat. It was nothing for him to have sev- 
eral hundred traps set in a single season during 
the years when he was in his prime and the 
game abundant. He of course, employed men 
to assist him in such stupendous work, paying 
them good wages, and having a fair margin 
left for his own profit. Deers, bears, wolves and 
panthers were so numerous about Salisbury for 
years after he made his home on the borders of 
the woods, that he slaughtered them in great 
numbers. It is believed to be justly said that 
he killed more of these animals collectively than 
any other white man in the State, having slain 



Nat Foster. 165 

no less than seventy-five deer in one season and 
ninety-six bears in three seasons. Wolves he 
killed and trapped in large numbers. One sea- 
son, when the bounty on them was high, he had 
two lines of wolf traps extending from Salis- 
bury into the very heart of the Adirondacks; 
some say it extended clear through the wilder- 
ness to the St. Lawrence river. This is not im- 
probable, considering his general extensive 
operations, and the fact that some of the ad- 
ventures he had, which we will note, occurred 
in the county of St. Lawrence. 

The avails of his hunting and trapping 
amounted one season, when a liberal bounty was 
paid on wolves, bears and panthers, and he had 
taken an unusual number of furs of other ani- 
mals, to twelve hundred dollars, which he had in 
gold in the spring after he had closed up all of 
his sales and accounts. This was a vast sum 
for those days. 

The bounties paid for the destruction of wild 
animals often made the town taxes something 
of a burden. One year a quite wealthy farmer 
took a stand at the town meeting against paying 
so large a bounty as was then paid, and suc- 
ceeded in securing a large reduction in the 
prices paid by the officers for bears' tails, wolves' 
heads and panthers' ears. At this all the hunt- 



1 66 Life and Adventures of 

ers of the township turned their attention to other 
game and purposely let the wolves and panthers 
alone. In a year's time they had greatly in- 
creased, the wolves particularly coming from the 
interior of the wilderness in great numbers at- 
tracted tO' the settlements by the toothsome, and 
now more easily obtained sheep. Foster had told 
his wealthy neighbor that he would be sorry for 
the manner in which he had worked and voted 
at the town meeting. And after the animals had 
had time to increase, he was not surprised one 
day to be told a most pitiful story by the same 
farmer, of the injuries and loss he had sustained 
the night before by wolves, which had gotten 
into his sheep fold and destroyed more property 
than his tax had amounted to when the bounty 
for wolf scalps was the highest. But the farmer 
found he was "barking up the wrong tree" when 
he told his tale to Foster, for after listening to 
him a moment he interrupted him by saying, 
"Well, I don't know as I can pity you." If you 
are not willing to pay me for protecting your 
sheep, you must buy traps and take care of them 
yourself." The penurious farmer saw the point; 
and it is needless to say was ready to vote a more 
liberal bounty than ever at the next town 
meeting. 

The winter that the bounty was off the wild 



Nat Foster. i6y 

animals of a destructive nature, Foster turned 
his attention entirely to the killing of deer and 
moose, disposing of many of their carcasses in 
the eastern market. There may be seen now in 
Albany, New York and Philadelphia museums, 
mounted specimens of noble deer and moose 
killed by this famous hunter. He at one time 
had a captive moose on his farm at Salisbury, 
keeping it stalled in his barn. 

Foster for a time carried a rifle called a 
''double shooter," made after a pattern designed 
by a gunsmith of the village, named Willis 
Avery, whose descendants still live in the village. 
The guns were made with single barrels, but 
\\'ith two locks, one above the other, and far 
enough apart to admit of two charges, the upper 
charge of powder resting against the lower bul- 
let. The locks were made for percussion pills, 
and when the pick was down which crushed the 
pill at the upper lock, there was no danger to be 
apprehended in firing the other charge. In prac- 
tical use, howver, it was found that the vents 
would become plugged with a few firings, and 
they would have to be patiently picked open with 
a pin. So that the guns, which were really very 
ingenious, and would have answered admirably 
if percussion caps had been known, never came 
into general use. The rifle which Foster used 



1 68 Life and Adventures of 

most of his life would carry two balls as well as 
one. It was made expressly for him by Mr. 
Avery, and was light at the muzzle and heavy at 
the breech. This, Foster explained, was for the 
purpose of shooting game on the move. When 
he w^ished to make game doubly sure he would 
load with two bullets. It was in this manner 
he loaded it when he shot the Indian at the Old 
Forge. 

He was remarkably expert at loading and 
firing his rifle. Particularly so if it was neces- 
sary to make several shots in hot haste and at 
short range. He was frequently known upon a 
wager to commence with his rifle unloaded and 
fire it oflf six times in one minute. This seems 
almost incredible, but nevertheless it is true. 
And we better understand it wdien we are told 
how he carried his bullets and loaded and fired 
on such occasions. He would place three well 
pared balls between the fingers of each hand; 
then from a powder horn provided with a 
charger, he would pour in the powder, drop in 
a ball which would just roll down the barrel 
without a patch, strike the butt of the gun with 
his hand, which primed it, and the next instant 
the bullet was speeding to- its mark. Of course, 
this could be done only in firing at short range. 
To make long shots, it was necessary to patch 



Nat Foster. 169 

the balls and drive them home with a ramrod. 
A flint-lock rifle, of course, was used. His large 
bony hand aided him in retaining bullets be- 
tween his fingers, and as he began early to thus 
carry them, they formed for themselves cavities, 
the tissue of his fingers forming itself into almost 
the exact shape of a bullet mould, which nearly 
concealed the lead between his fingers. He was 
able to manipulate his gun, handle his knife or 
an ax without removing them. An ordinary 
observer, even in shaking hands with him, would 
not have noticed the strange jewelry he wore. 

'*A regiment of such riflemen as Foster firing 
at close range," says Simms in his book, "would 
soon decide the fate of a battle." Which was 
quite true for those days. 

In the second American war with Great Brit- 
ain, the following incident is related of Foster 
by his youngest brother, Shubael: "A company 
of riflemen from South Carolina, commanded by 
Captain Forsyth, passed through the town of 
Salisbury, near Diamond Hill, two miles north 
of Salisbury Corners. The troops were on their 
way from the Mohawk Valley to the military 
lines between New York and Canada. They en- 
camped at Manheim over one day for the pur- 
pose of washing their clothes. The celebrity of 
Foster as a rapid shooter and accurate marks- 



170 Life and Adventures of 

man came to the ears of Captain Forsyth, and he 
sent for Foster and questioned mm in regard to 
his abihty to fulfill all the extraordinary stories 
told by his friends about him. Foster did not 
have much tO' say, merely telnng the captain that 
he would wager that he could "put more balls 
into the bigness of a man in the space of one 
minute than any one in his command.'' Now, 
Captain Forsyth had in his company a most ex- 
pert and rapid rifleman named Robinson, and so 
he inmiediately took Foster at his word and 
arranged to have him pitted against his crack 
marksman. The terms of the wager were agreed 
upon and the manner of the test settled. They 
were to shoot six times at targets ten rods away, 
each beginning with unloaded rifle at the same 
time. They took their places, with the company 
drawn up in line to witness, as they supposed the 
defeat of the lank and uncouth trapper. Foster 
had his six well pared rifle balls between his 
fingers, which were unobserved. 

"The signal was given and they began. Fos- 
ter made things hum for a minute, while he 
poured the powder from his horn into the gun, 
mysteriously spread his fingers over the muzzle 
of his rifle, knocked the butt gently on the palm 
of his hand, and blazed away at his target, 
always putting a l^all there, though where it 



Nat Foster. 171 

came from none could imagine. He put the 
sixth ball in his target, having made a little cir- 
cle of six holes in the piece of bark, while Robin- 
son was still fumbling in his bullet pouch for his 
fourth bullet. A murmur of applause ran 
through the ranks, and Foster was at once a lion 
in the camp. Captain Forsyth was greatly sur- 
prised at finding so skillful and rapid a marks- 
man on the frontier of New York, and anxious 
to secure his service, he offered him thirty dol- 
lars a month to join his company with the com- 
plimentary assurance that he might eat at his table. 
But as the war was regarded as nearly over, and 
Foster in common with many men of the in- 
terior, did not approve of the war anyway, he 
declined the offer." 

Foster was sometimes accompanied by an- 
other hunter in his excursions into the woods. 
Occasionally he would devote a season to the 
business in partnership with another, at the end 
dividing the spoils or the proceeds of their sale. 
Stoner, who was a warm friend of Foster's from 
the time of his gallant conduct at St. Johnsville 
on the Fourth of July, sometimes visited him at 
Salisbury and accompanied him on his hunts. 
But more often than not he threaded the track- 
less forests alone. 

His accoutrements for a long journey, like 



172 Life and Adventures of 

going to the Fulton Chain or the most northern 
lakes, were quite numerous. Slung from his 
left shoulder and hanging at his right side would 
be a large powder horn and bullet pouch of suf- 
ficient dimensions to warrant a lengthy hunt. A 
belt encircled his waist, through which was thrust 
a sheathed knife with keen edge, and an ax or 
hatchet. When on jaunts for trapping, a bundle 
of small steel traps would also be suspended from 
his right shoulder. To his back was strapped 
his pack basket, containing his blanket, perhaps 
some more traps, a tin teapot, and sheet-iron 
frying pan, a supply of tea, salt, Indian meal, 
and in the early part of the trip some bread. 

When tramping through the forests he could 
make his camp in thirty minutes, with the snow 
even a foot deep. He would set up two 
crotched sticks, stretch a pole across them, and 
others from this to the ground, then covering the 
whole with hemlock boughs, and closing the 
sides with the same and strewing a liberal sup- 
ply of twigs on the ground or snow, as the case 
might be, a good shelter was provided for his 
night's repose. According to the expression of 
an old guide, whom I interviewed, and 
whO' remembers Foster, the roof of such a hut 
properly thatched with hemlock boughs to the 
depth of six or eight inches, "would shed all the 
water that ever fell in Noah's flood." 




'A good Shelter * * * for his night's repose. 



Nat Foster. 173 

It might not be as water-tight as that, but I 
have no doubt that it would shed all the water 
that fell in the hardest kind of a thunder shower. 
Building a hug-e fire before the open front of 
the shanty, Foster would spread his blanket on 
the fragrant boughs, and rolling himself therein, 
would sleep soundly until morning, or until 
awakened by the howl or bark of wild animals. 

He never carried a compass with him in the 
woods, yet he was never lost, being always able 
to readily locate the directions by observing the 
tops of some near-by hemlock tree. He main- 
tained that the small tapering top of these trees 
always grew with a slight bending towards the 
east, caused by the western winds; so he had 
only to look to the top of one of these trees of 
the forest and then go confidently on his way. 
If one of these trees was not in view, as some- 
times might happen, then he studied the bark of 
any tree ; even the drifting of the snow in winter 
afforded him means of guidance. 

As he grew older and his reputation as a 
hunter and trapper increased, his kind and genial 
manner, which he coupled with all of his ex- 
ploits, won for him the title of "Uncle Nat." 
And by this name he was called by people far 
and near, by those who knew him personally 



174 -^^^^ (^^d Adventures of 

and by those who knew him by reputation only. 
His fame for shooting was increased in his 
younger days by his once dehvering two girls 
from the attack of a panther. They were out in 
the woods in the vicinity of Salisbury, gathering 
flowers. Accompanying them was a large New- 
foundland dog, named Towser. As they were 
strolling along, with Towser ahead, they saw 
what they supposed was another dog of a dif- 
ferent kind, come out of the brush and com- 
mence to play and gambol with Towser. He, 
however, w^as not sO' inclined to play as was the 
strange dog, but instead commenced to growl 
and show his teeth and finally ended the sport 
by seizing the stranger by the throat and shaking 
the life out of him. 

The girls watched the struggle with interest, 
and when Towser threw the vanquished animal 
from him they clapped their hands in applause. 
But their pleasure was soon turned to fear, for 
Towser had scarcely turned to trot back to the 
girls to be petted by them for his success, when 
another of the same kind of brutes, only much 
larger, sprang from the brush and attacked the 
dog. It was an uneven struggle, and though 
poor Towser made a gallant fight, he soon began 
to weaken. The oldest girl now divined the true 
nature of the animal their dog was struggling 



Nat Foster. 175 

with. It was a fierce and ugly panther, and it 
was her young one Towser had slain. This she 
did not dare to tell her companion for fear she 
would scream and, perhaps, faint, leaving them 
both entirely at the mercy of the wild beast. 

In silence they watched the battle between 
their faithful canine friend and the huge yellow 
cat. Towser fought fearlessly and gave the pan- 
ther a hard tussle before he was vanquished. At 
last the panther gained the mastery, and securing 
a hold on the dog's throat, dealt with him as its 
own kitten had been dealt with but a moment 
before. Then crouching over the body of the 
poor dog, it fastened its devilish eyes on the now 
terrified girls. By this time the youngest girl 
had also guessed the true nature of the animal 
that was struggling with their dog. And as she 
saw the struggle between them cease, and Towser 
dead, with the panther preparing to spring on 
them, she uttered a scream and fell fainting into 
the arms of her companion. 

This brave girl who had witnessed the strug- 
gle with so much fortitude, now gave herself and 
her fainting friend up as lost. Supporting her 
prostrate companion, she uowea her head and 
waited the spring of the awful beast. But the 
scream the fainting girl had uttered was their 
salvation. Foster was in the vicinitv, gun in 



176 Life and Adventures of 

hand, and hearing the agonized cry, hastened 
towards the spot from whence it came. He 
came in sight of the startHng tableau of the hud- 
dhng girls and crouching panther just as the 
latter was about to spring. Quick as a flash he 
raised his rifle, and observing that the head of 
the oldest girl covered the sight of the rifle, he 
uttered a warning ''hist" and gently told her to 
lower her head. The girl heard and heeded. 
She suffered her head to sink upon her breast, 
and the next instant Foster's rifle spoke their 
deliverance. He had put the ball squarely be- 
tween the panther's eyes and it dropped dead 
upon the body of the dog it had slain. , 

No doubt my readers will recognize this story. 
Where have you seen it? In Cooper's Leather- 
stocking Tales. This incident in the life of Fos- 
ter, it appears, tne famous novelist has woven 
into the fabric of his thrilling adventures of 
Leatherstocking. But I believe this is the only 
incident in Foster's life that can be discovered 
in Cooper's works. In a foot note in the book 
"The Deerslayer," this incident is credited to 
Otsego county. But Foster's family say that it 
occurred in Herkimer county, and near Salis- 
bury. Simms in his book calls Foster ''the mod- 
ern Teatherstocking." He seemed ignorant of 
the fact that in a sense he was the Leatherstock- 



Nat Foster. 177 

ing of Cooper. And indeed, I have every reason 
to believe that Foster was the identical character 
used by Cooper in his "Leatherstocking Tales." 
One of his descendants made this assertion to 
me, which I was at first inclined to discredit. 
But from the similarity of the two characters, I 
unintentionally obtained in gathering the facts of 
Foster's life, I became convinced that Nat Fos- 
ter is Cooper's "Natty Bumfo." I am not alone 
in this opinion. The late Judge Hurlbut, who 
defended Foster at his trial for killing the Indian 
at the Old Forge, and who had known Foster for 
years, was of this opinion. His sou, Gansevort 
de W. Hurlbut of Albany, N. Y., is also of the 
same opinion, based upon statements of his 
father, and his own comparison of the two char- 
acters. In a letter tO' me bearing on this subject, 
Mr. Hurlbut says: ''James Fennimore Cooper 
having known Foster in his lifetime (at an early 
age) it seems not improbable that he took Fos- 
ter as the original of his famous scout and 
trapper, commonly called 'Leatherstocking,' or 
in other words, that 'Nat Foster' and 'Natty 
Bumfo' were identical. Observe the similarity 
in description, of manners, habits and person. 
Dread of the law, and consequent outward com- 
formity; their laughing in an exactly similar 
n^.anner, without noise; mouth the same; the style 



178 Life and Adventures of 

of rifle carried by both; both leaving the state ;^ 
* ■'' * '•'' and through it all, you find points 
of similarity, hardly the work of chance. After 
the comparison of the Leatherstocking in the 
'Pioneers,' and the 'Deerslayer' with the charac- 
ter of Foster as described by Simms, and there 
is additional ground for the assertion that they 
are the same persons; or rather, that Cooper's 
hero was none other than Nat Foster." This 
is the statement of a man who knows whereof 
he speaks. If my work amounts to nothing 
more, I will be satisfied, if it develops into a bio- 
graphy of the man who afforded the inspiration 
to Cooper to write those thrilling and fascinating 
"Leatherstocking Tales," which have delighted 
and entertained so many of us from our youtli,. 
even until now. 



CHAPTER X. 



1WILL now devote a couple of chapters to the 
relating of stories and anecdotes of Foster's 
life while hunting in the Adirondacks, as they 
have been preserved in the memory of his own 
family. 

Countless stories of his life and adventures 
may be had at any time without the asking from 
the mouths of old guides and residents of the 
region. Many of them are marvelous; some of 
them are stupid and very thin on their face. 
It was always my practice to take them with 
"a grain of salt and an ounce of consideration." 
When I set out to write a history of Foster's 
life, it w^as my determination, which I have ad- 
hered to, to produce only such stories as were 
authenticated by a member of some branch of 
his family; but I must confess that even some of 
these authenticated and thus reliable stories 
staggered me by their startling, and at first 
sight, unreasonable statement. So the reader 
must not be incredulous at the sometimes sud- 
den surprises and unexpected results of Fos- 



i8o Life and Adventures of 

ter's experiences, as perhaps you may already 
have been. For it was over half a century ago 
that Foster hunted and trapped, when the Ad- 
irondacks were fairly teeming with all i<inds of 
game common to that region in its original and 
natural state. The wilderness was really and 
truly a "forest primeval." Foster was among 
the first of the white men who invested it for 
the pecuniary gain its wealth of animal life af- 
forded. The dusky Indian, it is true, had hunted 
and trapped there for centuries, but apparently 
had made no impression on the multitudinousand 
varied kinds of animals that abounded. They 
were many, and nearly all were valuable in one 
way or another to a hunter like Foster, who fol- 
lowed the fortunes of the chase for nearly half 
of every year, as an honest and agreeable means 
of contributing to his support. 

There were the small animals like the martin 
and fisher, together with the fox, that were 
caught with traps and dead-falls anywhere in the 
woods. Then there were the otter, beaver and 
muskrat, caught with steel traps along streams 
and around lakes and ponds. These animals were 
valuable because of their fur. The larger ani- 
mals were desired either because of the bounty 
paid by the towns and the State for their de- 
struction, or because of the value of their car- 




'Another creature * * * that often made things lively for our hero. 



Nat Foster. i8i 

casses for food. It was with the larger game, 
like the deer, moose, bear, panther and wolf, 
which were as plentiful as tne smaller game, that 
Foster had his most exciting and interesting ex- 
periences. And it was about such adventures as 
I have stated, that I was the most surprised and 
doubtful. Yet, upon second thought, we can see 
it was nothing strange when these animals cut up 
the most wonderful freaks with him when he 
trespassed into their lairs in pursuit of them. 

In this connection I say nothing about an- 
other creature that would not justly come under 
the head of the quadruped, but which neverthe- 
less often made things lively for our hero as he 
was threading the forests after game with four 
legs. I leave the reader to discover its species. 
It often fi'gures in his most exciting exploits in 
the Adirondacks, as it already has in one or two 
of his adventures as a lad and as a young man. 

One time as he was hunting in Herkimer 
county, following up the banks of Spruce creek, 
he came upon twO' noble bucks browsing upon the 
tender shoots of bushes that overhung the banks 
of the creek. He readily shot one of them, but 
the other bounded of¥ into the brush. Deter- 
mined to secure it, he dragged the carcass of the 
one he had, out of the water onto the bank and 
then followed the trail of the other deer in hopes 



1 82 Life and Adventures of 

of starting it again; after going a mile without 
success, he abandoned the attempt, and returned 
to secure the one he had shot. Imagine his sur- 
prise upon gaining the bank of the creek again 
to find the deer gone. It took him but a mo- 
ment, however, to ascertain its whereabouts. It 
had been dragged into the bushes and carefuUy 
covered with dead leaves. His practiced eye told 
him at once that it was the work of some wild 
animal, probably a panther. He resolved at 
once to fool the beast, and secure its own head 
in the bargain. Quickly removing the carcass 
of the deer, he replaced it with pieces of an old 
rotten log, then having made everything about 
the heap as nearly as possible as it was before, 
he concealed himself in a clump of bushes near 
by and waited to see what the results would be. 

In a short time his patience was rewarded by 
beholding an old she panther with two young 
ones approaching; coming to within a few rods 
of the pile of leaves, she halted the young ones 
and advancing cat-like, to within twenty feet of 
the pile, gave a spring, landing squarely on the 
pile of leaves and commenced to scatter them in 
all directions. In a moment she had uncovered, 
not the toothsome carcass of a sleek deer, but 
an old rotten and decayed log. 

"She was the most disappointed and aston- 



Nat Foster. 183 

ished animal I ever saw," said Foster in relating 
the adventure. ''She stood still and looked first 
about her, and then at the log. She would sniff 
the air and then the billet of w^ood she stood on, 
and the poor kittens a few rods away, were all 
the time looking on, in wonderment, I suppose, 
at their mothers strange actions. Suddenly she 
seemed to discover me, for she screamed as they 
always do, and crouched down to spring in my 
direction. I thought now it was about time to 
begin action, and so gave her a charge between 
the eyes; she never even moved from the log, 
but dropped dead where she crouched. I then 
easily got the kittens and think I did a pretty 
good afternoon's work, getting a deer and the 
three panther heads, which brought me a good 
bounty." 

Foster's stories of unexpected good luck, and 
of "lucky shots," wdiereby he would secure a 
large and varied amount of game, are remark- 
able. One of them relates to the bagging inside 
of a couple of hours, of two wolves, five pan- 
thers and one deer. This wonderful achieve- 
ment was accomplished when he was tramping 
through the woods near Panther Lake. 

As he was making his solitary way through 
the forests, his course was arrested by a deer 
coming through the brush pursued by a wolf, 



184 Life and Adventures of 

or perhaps by a whole pack. He aUowed the 
deer to cross the trail without firing, but waited 
with cocked rifle for the appearance of its pur- 
snrers. He was obliged to wait but a few mo- 
ments when a couple of huge wolves, their 
tongues hanging out, their breasts and shoulders 
flecked with foam, came crashing into view. The 
foremost brute no sooner leaped into sight than 
a bullet from the Nimrod's rifle stopped its 
course forever, and it was but an instant more 
ere the other was similarly dealt with. 

Here was luck. The scalps of the two wolves 
were worth sixty dollars. With a "humph" of 
satisfaction, Foster carefully reloaded his rifle 
with a patched ball and setting it within easy 
reach, commenced to skin the wolves. As he 
was busily engaged in this occupation his quick 
ear detected the approach of wild animals, and 
looking up, he saw not five rods from him a 
female panther and two half-grown ones. They 
had been attracted to the spot by the smell of 
fresh meat. It was but the work of an instant to 
snatch his rifle and send a ball through the old 
one's head; then he quickly dispatched the two 
young ones. 

He now had more game to skin, and so he set 
to work to finish the wolves. Being an experi- 
enced hunter he did not relax his vigilance in 



Nat Foster. 185 

the least, for he knew that when the mother pan- 
ther was aroiuid there was hkely to be in the 
vicinity her mate with a part of the family,, so 
setting- his rifle within his reach he busied him- 
self with the work of skinning the animals, imtil, 
as he expected, he heard another cracking in the 
bushes, and looking up, he beheia, what he after- 
wards declared to be the biggest panther he ever 
saw in his life. It was followed closely by an- 
other half-grown one, like the two he had already 
shot. They were both making towards him on a 
trot, with their necks stretched out and heads 
erect, presenting excellent si.ots. In fact, both 
opportunities for shooting being sO' good, he 
was in doubt as he picked up his rifle again 
which to shoot first ; but as he raised his gun tiie 
sight covered the young one, and he let drive at 
it, dropping it in its very tracks. The old one 
gave an aw^ful scream and sprang onto the in- 
clined trunk of a half prostrate tree that was but 
a few feet away. As it ran up the trunk of the 
tree it presented a line shot, and Foster, who 
with his usual rapidity of loading, had c^uickly 
dropped into his gun a charge of powder and a 
ball from between his fingers, now gave him a 
charge; to his astonishment the beast kept on 
his course up the tree. At first he thought he 
had missed him, yet wondered how that could 
^3 



i86 Life and Adventures of 

be, as his rifle never made a miss. Before he 
had time to fire again, the panther had run to 
the end of the tree and dropped of! onto the 
ground, where it lay motionless, in fact dead. 
An examination showed the hunter that he had 
shot it, as he had intended, through the head, 
and only muscular action could have carried it 
to the end of the tree. 

Foster now surveyed the field of battle and 
counted up the spoils. He had two dead wolves, 
and five panther carcasses, as a result of the 
deer chase. He now bethought himself of the 
deer, and recollecting that he needed fresh and 
edible meat at his camp, he resolved to possess 
himself of the deer. He knew if it had been run 
far by the wolves, before he rid it of those 
troublesome enemies, it wouia be resting some- 
where on the shore of the lake. Accordingly he 
set out on the trail the fleeing deer had made, 
and as he had expected, the deer was lying in the 
bushes on the lake shore. It started up on his 
approach, to flee away. Putting away the thought 
of pity, which prompted him to spare the timid 
creature when it crossed his trail, he brought it 
down with a charge from his rifle. 

He dressed the deer, and then returned to the 
scene of action and finished taking the hides from 
the panthers and wolves. By the time he had 



Nat Foster. 187 

gotten all of the spoils to his camp that night 
he was both hungry and tired. He started a 
fire and soon had some choice cuts from the 
deer roasting on a spit, and as he ate the savory 
meat seasoned with a pinch of salt, he had no 
regrets for the fate of the poor deer that had 
brought him such good luck that day. 

Foster himself said that in all of his trapping 
and hunting experiences he was frightened but 
once, and that was one time when he came 
across two yoimg bear cubs in the woods. They 
were a lively pair, and when the hunter discov- 
ered them, were crawling about on some logs, 
eating red raspberries from bushes that over- 
hung the logs. Foster decided not to molest 
them for the time being, but wait for their 
parent to put in her appearance. So he seated 
himself on a convenient log under the shade of 
a friendly tree, for the day was sultry, and be- 
fore he knew it, dropped ofif into a doze. While 
thus drowsing the old bear he was to watch for 
appeared on the scene, and espying the nodding 
hunter she ambled towards him, and coming up 
tO' the end of the log on which Foster was seated, 
she placed her immense forepaws on it and ut- 
tered a fearful growl, at the same time giving the 
log a shake which nearly precipitated the hunter 
to the ofround. It is said that dreams are in- 



1 88 Life and Adventures of 

stantaneous impressions of the mind. Whether 
it was a dream or not, Foster thought for a 
moment that the bear was on his back, and in 
his consternation and fear he leaped, he said, at 
least a dozen feet before he discovered that the 
bear was not on his back but many feet away 
from him. Becoming thoroughly awakened, he 
ceased his inglorious flight and, turning, sent 
a ball from his trusty rifle through her heart. 

It is believed that this was the only time he 
was ever caught really "napping" by either man 
or beast. According to his own statement it is. 
And certain it is that the wily Indian who or- 
dinarily was so shrewd, was often outwitted by 
this keen and sharp pale-face, and was never 
caught napping by them. 

It is related of him that he was once attacked 
in the forests by an Indian intent oil killing him. 
They both took refuge behind trees, and from 
their respective positions kept up a fusilade all 
the afternoon without either gaining the advan- 
tage. As it became dusk, the shrewd old hunter 
removed his coon skin cap and his coat, and ar- 
ranging his rifle with them so that it looked like 
a figure of a man, he cautiously pushed the efiBgy 
out from behind the beech tree which sheltered 
him. The cap and coat had not been in the 
view of the savage a quarter of a minute before 



Nat Uoster. 189 

lie shot at it, supposing in the dusk of the even- 
ing that he had put a baU into the body of his 
antagonist. To' complete the deception, Foster 
gave a death-like groan and caused the cap and 
coat to sway back and forth a moment and then 
to fall slowly to the ground. The Indian, now- 
supposing that he had surely brought down his 
man, gave a whoop of triumph, rushed forward 
from his tree, knife in hand, to scalp the fallen 
foe. This was what Foster wanted. The poor 
Indian had not proceeded a rod from his tree 
before the crack of the hunter's rifle undeceived 
him, if undeceived he could be, for a bullet had 
pierced his brain. 

Another time as Foster was traveling through 
the wilderness in the vicinity of Indian river, liis 
dog Watch, manifested some uneasiness. Like 
his mother Rose, who was long since dead, 
Watch could scent either four-legged or two- 
legged game at a good distance. On this occa- 
sion he scented game, but of which kind his 
master was not sure. From the dog's actions, 
and from the fact that he was laden with furs, he 
suspected it was an Indian intent on killing him 
and taking his pack. 

Coming to a little hill he made a detour 
around it and came up again on his own trail 
and found it was as he suspected. From tracks 



ipo Life and Adventures of 

m the light snow he saw that he was being fol- 
lowed by an Indian, for in addition to his own 
tracks there were those of another with the tell- 
tale "turn in" impression made by an Indian 
foot. He waited for nothing more. Calling his 
old coon-skin cap into use again, he placed it 
on an old log that crossed his trail, so that the 
top was just visible to one approaching, thus 
presenting the appearance that the owner and 
wearer was concealed behind the log. Then 
with his do'g he crouched behind a hemlock and 
w'aited for the Indian's approach opposite. 

In a little while he saw the Indian making his 
way along, studying the trail. He had followed 
Foster's trail around the hill and now^ came upon 
the old trail again. He seemed a little puzzled 
as he now came to the three tracks in the snow, 
and stopped and looked cautiously around. His 
eyes finally rested upon the fur cap appearing 
just above the top of the log; supposing it to be 
on the head of the owner he raised his rifle, 
took deliberate aim and fired. Simultaneously 
with the discharge of his own rifle, however, an- 
other one sent forth its small thunder, and the 
merciless Indian fell back as if kicked dead by 
his own gun. 

The Sacandaga river was the scene of several 
of Foster's encounters with the Indians. As we 



Nat Foster. 191 

have seen, when he was only twenty-one he had 
such a serious brush with them on this river 
that he "frightened" them away. But his victory 
on that occasion did not prevent many of their 
fellows from bothering him afterwards. 

One time he was operating along the west 
branch of the river, having traps set in the 
woods for mink and fisher, and along the banks 
of the stream for otter and muskrat. He also 
had a number of traps set around the Trout 
lakes, where he was having wonderfully good 
success in taking fisher and otter, together with 
a beaver or two every night from the colonies 
that were at the outlets of the lakes. Finally his 
success here ceased, and every morning his traps 
would be empty, but with every evidence of hav- 
ing done service during the night. So he de" 
termined to watch for the intruders and settle 
with the thieves. 

There was a foot bridge across the river about 
thirty rods below where the outlet of the lakes 
emptied into the river. It was nothing but the 
trunk of an old tree, but it had fallen in such a 
convenient position across the river as to be 
appropriated as a foot bridge. Foster always 
crossed upon this in going to attend to his traps 
at the lakes, and he presumed those who were 
stealing from his traps there, would also. So 



192 Life and Adventures of 

making his way to the river one morning, before 
the break of day, he concealed himself behind 
the upturned roots of the prostrate "monarch 
of the forest," which were on the side of the 
river towards the lakes. From this position he 
could wait and watch for the ones who would be 
coming to inspect his traps along the outlet 
stream at the lakes. 

Before it \vas fairly light he saw two figures 
coming stealing .along towards the log across the 
river. Said Foster, in relating the adventure, "I 
watched 'em as they came towards the bridge 
and felt sure the\' were the ones who had been 
stealing from my traps. They were Injuns any- 
how, I was sure of that, lliey came onto the 
bridge over the flowing stream and I raised my 
rifle and covered 'em with the sight, and thought 
— how easy it w^ould be to shoot both on 'em at 
once. But as I was thinking thus they both had 
got to the middle of the log, where they ap- 
peared to get dizzy, for they both fell into the 
stream below. And," he concluded with a sig- 
nificant shake of his head, "they didn't bother 
my traps after tliat." 

When trapping in this section of the country 
after the Upper Mill was built, w^iich was situ- 
ated about two miles from the place wiiere the 
above tragedy occurred, Foster would make his 



Nat Foster. 193 

headquarters with the operators of the sawmih, 
as it was far better than camping in the woods. 
The mill pond also contained otters and musk- 
rats to be trapped and snared. 

Foster's reputation as an Indian slayer was 
well understood by both white men and red men 
who lived in the woods. The former took it as 
a matter of coursej and from the old trapper's 
reluctance to talk aoout these events of his life 
they seldom mentioned them when in his pres- 
ence. The Indians, on the contrary, and as we 
might expect, resented this thinning out of their 
race by "Ole Nat Foster," as they called him. 
Many were the Indians who set out on his track 
to shoot him only tO' be shot themselves. 

One morning as Foster was standing by the 
mill in question, engaged in conversation with a 
group of mill hands, a ferocious looking Indian 
came into the clearing and approached the men. 
He was clad in the regulation hunting dress of 
an Indian, which was scarcely a dress at all, for 
it consisted of only a pair of short buckskin 
breeches, which did not cover the loins, a pair of 
leggings and moccasins. A belt encircled his 
waist, supporting the breeches, and carrying a 
knife and hatchet. At his side hung a powder 
horn and bullet pouch. A very dirty blanket 
was chawn about his bare shoulders. The only 



194 i-if^ CL^d Adventures of 

attractive thing about the dusky warrior was a 
bright new rifle he carried. 

Coming to the group of men he addressed 
them in a most haughty manner, as if desirous. 
of impressing them with the fact that he was 
especially bedecked and armed for the warpath. 
The first thing he said was to inquire if "Ole 
Nat Foster" was about. The men were a little 
amused but made no answer, looking to Foster 
to reply. 

Foster gave a significant wink to his com- 
panions and told the dusky stranger that he was 
not, but had already gone to look after his traps. 

"Where be his traps," asked the Indian, a 
gleam of anticipation coming into his eye. 

"Wal," said Foster, "his line o' traps begin 
over thar, by the end of the pond. But say," 
he added as the Indian turned to go, "that's a 
fine gun you've got thar, let's have a look at it." 

It was indeed a fine-looking firearm and an 
Indian owner would naturally be anxious to 
show it. But he shook his head, and turning 
again to go, said, "No, me go and snoot ole Fos- 
ter first, then I come back and show you gun." 

"But can you shoot," asked Foster, "old Fos- 
ter is a dead shot, and you want to look out." 

"Oh, me good shot, me not afraid," answered 
the Indian, confidentlv. 



Nat Foster. i95 

"Oh, pshaw," said Foster, 'Til bet I can beat 
you, let's have a try." 

"You good shot?" asked the Indian, as he 
eyed the old trapper curiously. 

"Well, just try and see who is the best," an- 
swered Foster. 

At this the Indian appeared inclined to try; 
but recollecting- himself, he shook his head and 
repeated that he must first go and shoot old Fos- 
ter, when he would return and try his hand with 
the stranger. At last, however, Foster and his 
companions prevailed upon the Indian to shoot 
with Foster and exhibit his superior skill and 
his rifle, of both of which he seemed very vain. 

A proper distance was at once paced off and 
a target set up, and the Indian took his place 
for the first shot, never suspecting that his rival 
v.-as the very man he was so desirous of shooting. 
He made his shot showing fair skill as a marks- 
man. 

"Now," said Foster, as he took the rifle from 
the Indian, "you go and plug up the hole you 
made, so there won't be no mistake by my possi- 
bly shooting in the same place." 

Without the least suspicion the Indian started 
for the target. It was but the work of an in- 
stant for Foster to load the rifle and the next 
instant, before he ever reached it, the Indian was 



196 Life and Adventures of 

bored between the shoulders with a ball from his 
own rifle. AVhen the Hamilton county officials 
investigated the matter, the affair was reported 
as "accidental." Foster being unused to the gun 
had handled it in such a way that it was dis- 
charged, and of course the Indian received the 
charge. This seemed to satisfy the authorities, 
and Foster was never brought before a court for 
the deed. 

An interesting story is told in Simms' book 
of the dog Watch, mentioned in this chapter. 
The animal figured in many of Foster's exploits 
during the first few years of his master's resi- 
dence in Salisbury. The dog was dammed by 
the bitch Rose, which was with him on his trip 
to Piesco Lake the time he captured little Mary 
French from the Indians, and "sent her captors 
back to Canada," as he expressed it. 

Watch was as fond of hunting as was his mas- 
ter, and often went on a hunt for himself. "One 
day the bay of this sagacious animal," says 
Simms, "called the owner to a retired spot in 
the forest, where he discovered Watch holding 
a moose 1)y the nose, keeping his own body be- 
tween the forelegs of his adversary to avoid the 
heavy blows aimed at. him with the antlers of 
the enraged animal, which formidable weapons 
weighed nearly thirty pounds. 



Nat Foster, 197 

"Upon coming to the spot Foster sent a bul- 
let into the head of the moose, which in its death 
struggle dashed the dog off with terrific force, 
throwing the brave dog against the trunk of a 
tree. The print of the dog's teeth remained upon 
the nose of the moose, but he himself appeared 
to be dead. Foster took off his coat and spread- 
ing it on ihe ground, laid his canine friend upoii 
it. About this time a partner in the hunt arrived 
upon the scene and they prepared to dress the 
moose. 

"With a heavy heart Foster began to whet his 
knife, when his comrade noticed a twitching of 
the muscles about the dog's neck, and he tried 
to cheer Foster by telling him the dog would 
recover. The old hunter shook his head doubt- 
ingly and set about the task of getting the 
moose ready to hang up and skin. As his mas- 
ter was engaged in this occupation. Watch raised 
his head slowly from the ground; at this Foster 
at once left off his work and began to caress him. 
Watch returned his attention gratefully, until 
his eye rested upon the body of his fallen foe, 
when springing to his feet he seized the lifeless 
moose by the throat from which he could only 
be removed with considerable diiBculty. This 
restoration of his favorite dog to life and vigor 
caused Foster more real joy than the killing of 
a dozen moose could possibly have done." 



CHAPTER XL 



IV/I ANY of Foster's exploits, like a few re- 
X®1 corded in the preceding chapter, occurred 
in the vicinity of his own home, while others 
occurred farther away, in the very heart of the 
Adirondacks. As deer and moose grew scarce 
near his home, he and his brothers would pene- 
trate into other districts in the fall in quest of 
this game for their winter's supply of meat. 

The following incident occurred while he and 
liis brother Shubael were on a deer hunt in St. 
Lawrence county, and will serve to show the 
numberless perils to which he exposed himself 
in those days. Th-e two hunters were making 
their way stealthily along through the dense for- 
ests "still hunting," when they came suddenly 
upon two noble bucks engaged in combat, prob- 
ably trying titles to the territory. 

To end this dispute and give his brother a 
chance to shoot some noble game, Foster told 
Shubael to ''shoot the nigh deer." The lad 
obeyed; he fu'ed and the nigh deer dropped. 

'That's good; now shoot the other one," ex- 



Nat Foster. 199 

claimed his brother as he whipped out his knife 
and rushed forward to stick the fallen deer. 

The other buck had bounded off as Shubael 
fired, but now stopped to witness, with the terri- 
fied Shubael, who forgot all about shooting 
again, a more novel engagement than the recent 
one. The fallen buck was not killed, but only 
stunned by the ball from Shubael's rifle striking 
it in the neck, near the spinal cord. As Foster 
ran up to cut its throat, the animal sprang to its 
feet and began to strike furiously at the hardy 
hunter with its powerful antlers. Quick as a 
flash, Foster placed the knife between his teeth 
and grasped the weapons ot nis foe. Then began 
a struggle for the mastery, more furious than 
the two bucks' engagement; one which for a 
time paralyzed Shubael, charmed the uninjured 
buck, who remained a few rods away gazing 
upon the scene, and caused the squirrels and 
chipmunks to scurry to their holes in alarm at 
the unusual confusion. Foster maintained his 
grip upon the antlers of the deer while the ani- 
mal thrashed him about among the trees and 
bushes in an alarming manner. The struggle 
was long and fierce. Foster not daring to let go 
his hold, nor even willing to give up until he 
had gained the mastery. Finally, as good luck 
would have it, he got the head of the deer 



2 00 Life and Adventures of 

wedged between two trees, against one of which 
a horn was broicen, and the worried animal 
thrown down, when he quickly cut its throat 
with the knife he had kept firmly clutched be- 
tween his teeth. 

As the confusion ceased and quiet reigned 
again, the other buck made known the fact that 
he had been a silent spectator by leaping 
through the underbrush. 

At this Foster, who had risen and was wiping 
the blood and dirt from his face, exclaimed to 
his brother, disgustedly, "I thought you'd shoot 
the other one! Geme the gun," and, snatching 
it from his brother's hand, he raised it, sighted a 
patch of the fleeing deer among the leaves of 
the forest, fired and brought it down. 

The tussle between Foster and the wounded 
deer, I am told, lasted over ten minutes. The 
ground was trampled and the grass and bushes 
beaten down for rocTs around, and his tattered 
garments must have reminded him of certain en- 
gagements of his youth. 

One time he had an amusing experience with 
a trapped bear and a very confident neighbor 
near his own home at Salisbury. A bear had 
been intruding upon some of his neighbors' 
farms and raising havoc in tneir corn fields. For 
some time it left Foster's farm and crops alone. 



Nat Foster. 201 

which made the neighbors beheve that the bear 
knew Foster's character as a hunter, and so 
avoided his property. Finally bruin invaded 
Foster's orchard and feasted upon half ripe sweet 
apples he obtained by climbing the trees and 
clambering about among the branches, doing 
considerable damage by breaking the limbs. 
Foster watched his orchard late into the night, 
for several evenings, but the bear would not 
make his visits until he had given up the w^atch 
and gone to bed. Resolved upon other tactics, 
Foster set his huge bear trap at the entrance of 
the orchard but a short distance from his barn. 
Xow the neighbors, one and all, w^aited anx- 
iously to see if "Uncle Nat" would succeed in 
ridding tliem of this troublesome intruder upon 
the town. 

For several nights the bear avoided the trap, 
but continued his depredations in the orchard. 
At last, one morning Mrs. Foster, who had gone 
to the farm yard to milk the cow^s, discovered 
bruin in the trap, and at once hastened to tell 
her husband, who was chopping wood at the 
house. He hurried in the house to procure his 
rifle. Just at this moment a neighbor arrived 
who was noted in the community for his brag 
and bluster. This man had repeatedly told how 
he would deal with the bear if only he had the 
14 



202 Life and Adventures of 

opportunity. He was there now to inquire if 
the bear had been caught. 

Upon being informed that the animal was at 
that very moment in the trap down by the or- 
chard, he manifested the greatest glee, and at 
once asked Foster for the privilege of shooting 
him. Now Foster had little faith in his neigh- 
bor's ability to execute any kind of a beast under 
any circumstances because of his timidity, which 
the poor man always tried to conceal by boast- 
ing; but being always ready to please and ac- 
commodate a friend, he assented; but he took 
the precaution, after loading the rifle and giving 
it to his visitor, to sling over his shoulder his 
powder horn and place a couple of bullets be- 
tween his fingers. 

As they made their way to the orchard, the 
man was constantly telling him how he was 
going to give the bear a sure death by his un- 
erring shot. They went around the barn and 
came in sight of the bear, who was meditatively 
eyeing the paw that was embraced by the earn- 
est jaws of the trap. A glance told Foster that 
the animal was not very securely caught, only 
the tip of his paw and the claws being fast. But 
he said nothing, resolving to have some fun 
with his boasting companion. The bravado of 
his neisfhbor seemed to cool somewhat as thev 



Nat Foster. 203 

came in sight of the black monster, and he 
wanted to stop and take his "deadly" shot as 
soon as they had turned the corner of the barn. 
But Foster would not consent to this, insisting 
that they go much closer before he took his 
shot. 

When they had come to a "close" distance, 
so close that it made the neighbor blancli with 
fear, Foster stopped and told his confident friend 
to shoot. He was a timid man, as we have said, 
and one thing he was really afraid of was a gun. 
He paused now to ask Foster if his rifle "kicked." 
Foster told him it might a little, but to go ahead 
and finish the bear. So he put the gun to his 
shoulder, took careful aim, then turned his head, 
shut both eyes, and jerked the trigger. Of 
course he pulled the sight off from the bear, 
and the bullet buried itself in the trunk of an 
inoffensive apple tree. 

The shot had an effect on the bear for all 
that, for at the report of the rifle he gave a lunge 
and jerk which set him quite free, leaving his 
claws in the trap. As the smoke cleared away, 
the now thoroughly excited neighbor beheld the 
bear sitting beside the trap, sucking his in- 
jured paw. 

This was enough to entirely unman him, and 
when the bear dropped upon all fours and made 



2 04 Life and Adventures of 

towards them, his fright was complete, and he 
franticahy appealed to Foster, exclaiming, "Oh, 
Uncle Nat! Uncle Nat! What shall we do, what 
shall we do?" 

Foster was too much amused to answer in 
words, but instead, he took the rifle from his 
demoralized friend, poured in a charge of pow- 
der, dropped in a ball and shot the bear in the 
heart. 

The traps used to catch bears were ponderous 
things. Foster and Stoner each had one made 
especially for their use by village smiths. They 
weighed in the neighborhood of fifty pounds. 
It is needless to say that they were never "toted" 
very far into the wilderness, though Foster 
sometimes took his to Fulton Chain, after the 
road to Moose river was opened. The trap is 
now in the possession of one of his grandsons, 
as is also the powder horn and bullet pouch he 
carried in his tramps and hunts. The jaws of 
the trap are over two feet in length and five 
inches in width, and are armed underneath with 
ugly spikes, which penetrating the bear's foot, 
making escape impossible when once securely 
caught. The huge strap springs on each side 
which closed the jaws of the trap were rein- 
forced by a second set of springs inside of the 
main ones. 



N^at Foster. 205 

To set this machine was no small task, nor 
was it by any means free from danger. It was 
almost impossible for one man alone to set it. 
The only way the double springs could be 
forced down was by placing the trap near the 
root of a tree, a log or rock, or some other ob- 
ject where a leverage could be obtained; then 
a stout and heavy stake or pole was placed 
across the spring with the butt of the lever under 
the log or stone, and one man by throwing his 
entire weight on the extreme end of the pole 
could force down the spring. He would then 
have to remain controlling the end of his lever 
while his companion went through the same per- 
formance with the other set of springs. At this 
juncture there should be a third man to set the 
pan. But when a third man was not at hand, 
they would succeed in adjusting it by one of 
them reaching and setting the catch. This was 
a risky thing to do, and the precaution was al- 
ways taken by the man doing it 01 placing a bil- 
let of wood between the jaws before attempting 
to adjust the pan, lest the levers getting loose, he 
would find the horrible spiKes piercing his own 
limbs. A chain some six feet in length, provided 
with two grappling hooks at the end completed 
the equipment of this ponderous apparatus. 

The wolf traps used by the hunters were on 



2o6 Life and Adventures of 

the same plan as this bear trap, but weighing 
only live or six pounds, and having only single 
springs on each side. The traps used in catch- 
ing otter were alsO' provided with two springs, 
only the whole trap was much lighter. For 
trapping mink, fisher and muskrat, traps with a 
single spring on one side was used. 

Upon one occasion when he and his brother 
Shubael were following a line of wolf traps near 
Salisbury, they came to one in which a half- 
grown wolf was caught by one of its hind legs. 
At the approach of the hunters it crawled under 
a brush pile, snarling and growling at a great 
rate. For the fun of the thing, Foster resolved 
tO' take the snarler home alive. So he cut a 
forked stick and fixed a kind of halter about its 
muzzle and then released it from the trap and 
started with the captive for home. 

The young wolf would go very quietly a little 
way, and then stop and spring at its captor. 
But it was easily controlled by the forked stick 
fastened to its nose. After getting it home he 
muzzled it and fastened it to a drag and allowed 
it partial liberty. It would roam about the place 
and into the house, much of the time keeping 
itself concealed under a bed. As it showed no 
signs of becoming domesticated it was finally 
slain, and the bounty obtained for its scalp. 



Nat Foster. 207 

Foster seemed to have a particular liking for 
strange pets. As we remember, while a lad he 
brought home bear cubs and panther kittens, 
and once captured a fuU-growii eagle. Later in 
life he continued the practice of endeavoring to 
make pets of the wild animals of the forests. He 
at one time had a full grown moose in his barn 
at Salisbury, which I have mentioned; this he 
captured one winter when the snow was deep 
and crusted. This moose became quite tame. 
The children of the neighborhood obtained great 
pleasure by going to Uncle Nat's, as they called 
him, and seeing his moose, petting it, and giving 
it handfuls of grain and other delicacies, 

Foster's fondness for children was great. 
Under his rough exterior, as a hunter and trap- 
per of animals of the wood and a slayer of In- 
dians, he carried a most tender and warm heart, 
particularly for all children. He always had a 
kind word for them, with a lively regard for their 
childish delights. An incident has been related 
to me of a visit paid him by two sons of his 
brother Elisha, illustrative of this kind trait of 
his. 

The boys w^ere aged eight and ten, and had 
come to spend the day on Uncle Nat's farm. 
They found him busily engaged in chopping 
wood. But as soon as he saw the boys ap- 



2o8 Life and Adventures of 

proaching him he ceased work and greeted them 
Avith a cheery "Hello, boys, glad to see you; 
-come to spend the day with Uncle Nat? Well, 
now, you must have a good time." And with 
that he stuck his ax in the block and went 
around the farm wnth them, showing them the 
things that would interest them, all the while 
asking them questions of their own life; about 
their going to school; what chores they had to 
do at home, and similar questions. He took 
them to the pig sty to show them a hog he was 
fattening, which was already so fat it could 
hardly get up; took them to the barn to see the 
moose, and showed them his fish pond, promis- 
ing to let them catch some trout from it after a 
while. Finally he asked the boys if they could 
shoot, but neither had ever fired ofif a gun, their 
father having long before abandoned the voca- 
tion of a hunter. So he told them he would 
show them how, and their eyes fairly glistened 
with pleasure at the prospect of Uncle Nat's 
teaching them to shoot. 

Taking his young nephews to the house, he 
took down his rifle and explained it to them. 
They listened with awed attention, for Uncle 
Nat's reputation as a wonderful marksman and 
successful hunter was familiar to them. After 
explaining all the parts of the rifle to the 1)oys, 



Nat Foster. 209 

and the manner of loading- and firing, he took 
them out to the wood pile to practice shooting, 
the delighted boys leaping and running before 
him. Arriving at the wood pile, Foster set up a 
target a reasonable distance away by fastening 
a piece of paper about the size of a silver dollar 
to a block of wood. He then loaded the rifle 
and gave the honor of the first shot to the oldest 
lad, Aaron by name. 

"Now% then," said he, by way of instruction, 
"'raise the sight until you've got in on the paper, 
and then pull easy." 

The rifle was heavy for Aaron, but he man- 
aged to level the barrel and fire, but did not even 
hit the stump. His uncle did not discourage 
him, however, but told the lad that he had done 
"perty well," but that he could probably do a 
"little better," and told the boys to watch the 
paper while he fired. 

In a few seconds he had loaded, and the boys 
had hardly had time to fasten their eyes on the 
paper before their uncle put a ball exactly 
through its center. This quite astonished and 
delighted them, and they capered about with 
glee, shouting, ''Do it again. Uncle Nat." But 
he insisted that they all must take turns in 
shooting, and so the younger lad took a shot; 
and before they got through he had them so 



2ro Life and Adventures of 

they could hit a larger piece of paper by firing 
from a rest. In some such manner as this he 
entertained and amused the boys the whole day. 

These side lights upon this phase of Foster's 
life show his true character. It was one of kind- 
ness and true integrity, and tends to enlighten 
the hardy and rough side of his life as a hunter, 
and the grewsomeness of its bloody conflicts 
with his dark-skinned fellow creatures. 

Foster's exploits with Indians were always 
shrouded in a mystery. When a boy nothing 
was thought of shooting an Indian, but when he 
moved to New York and came to live in Her- 
kimer county, the laws had become more strict 
and an Indian's life regarded of some value, so 
that when a person wantonly slew one, he was 
likely to be arrested and tried for it. 

I believe that in spite of the fact that Foster 
had had instilled into his mind a hatred of the 
red man by his father, he never deliberately and 
in cold blood killed one. Yet when crossed by 
one, or threatened by any of them, he would 
shoot them without hesitancy, and as coolly as 
his father had done in his day, and as he had 
taught his son to do. Whenever Uncle Nat 
spoke of these experiences, however, he 
shrewdly made use of such guarded language, 
that no legal advantage could be taken of it. 



Nat Foster, 211 

Thus we see that in recounting his adventure 
with the Indians near Piesco Lake, from whom 
he rescued httle Mary French, he did not say 
that he killed any of them. He simply said that 
he shot at the first Indian that was coming up 
the ravine where the girl, his dog and himself 
were concealed, and that the savage dropped his 
gun; that he fired again and the rear Indian 
turned and ran towards Piesco Lake, and then 
he fired that way. That was all. "The Indians," 
he declared, "may have all got back to Canada, 
but they did not molest him any more. 

In this way he told all his stories about killing 
Indians. They are all very brief and to the point. 
Here is one. He was telling some of his friends 
of the lucky shots ne had made, and declared 
that the best shot he ever made brought him 
eighteen beaver pelts, a dozen otter skins, and 
twenty muskrat hides, together with several 
skins of mink. All of these he secured with the 
single discharge of his gun. This wonderful 
statement staggered the faith of even his best 
friends, who had the greatest confidence in his 
ability tO' shoot fast and quick and do destructive 
work with his rifle. One of them in the group 
to whom he was telling the yarn ventured to ex- 
press a doubt about its truthfulness. Foster's 
simple reply to his skeptical friend was, "Wal,. 



2 12 Life and Adventures of 

yes, it was a wonderful shot, but not so hard, 
■either. I just had to take the fihing out of a 
blanket to do it; that's all." No doubt of it. I 
haven't the slightest idea that the poor red skin 
wdio owned the pelts ever rolled himself in His 
blanket again. 

One of his favorite expressions and mode of 
explanation whenever asked about any particu- 
lar Indian he was suspected of making away 
with was, ''Wal, the last I saw of 'em, his blanket 
was a smoking." Here is another one of his 
■characteristic stories. "I was walking in the 
woods when I saw an Injun lay down to drink 
•out of a brook; something was the matter with 
him, for he dropped his face into the water and 
■drowned. I thought I might as well take his 
gun, blanket and stufT as to leave them there 
to spoil." 

Another time he said that in one of his hunt- 
ing excursions he fell in with an Indian who 
carried on his back thirteen otter skins; that he 
had no intention of harming the Indian, in fact 
did not know that he had killed him, but that he 
never let otter skins escape him alive. He fired, 
they all fell, and he picked them up and came 
away. 

In the same guarded way he told of making 
away with the Indian Hess. As Simms in his 



Nat Foster. 213 

book gives a very good account of this incident 
in the Hfe of our hero, we will transcribe it from 
his work verbatim. 

Before the American Revolution there dwelt 
about two miles from the present village (now 
a city) of Little Falls, an Indian named Hess, 
who took an active part in that conflict as a hire- 
ling of Britain, and whO' undoubtedly was one 
of the most cruel and bloodthirsty of his race. 
Some ten or twelve years after the war, this In- 
dian returned to his former hunting grounds to 
prosecute his favorite avocation. 

"A country inn at this period was, for the 
spread of knowledge to be smoked in and 
watered in, a kind of 'circulating medium;' a 
place where in the absence of our thousands of 
newspapers the people of the surrounding coun- 
try met to learn news from quia nuncs. And as 
Little Falls * * '^ was then a place of som.e 
notoriety on account of her new inland locks and 
old moss clad rocks, the bar-room of the village 
tavern became the place where all the classic 
events of olden time, and all the improvements 
of the modern days were freely discussed. 

"On a certain occasion Foster met the Indian 
Hess in the bar-room of the Little Falls tavern, 
and observing that his dress a-la-mode was that 
of a hunter, he attempted to engage him in con- 



2 14 -^^^^ ^f^d Adventures of 

versatioii, but he feigned ignorance of the Eng- 
lish language until his white competitor in bea- 
ver skins oiled his tongue at the bar, when lo! 
the seal on his lips w^as broken and he spoke 
English tolerably well. The two hunters soon 
after left the village and traveled some distance 
together, when the conversation turned upon 
Revolutionary days. Boasting of his individual 
exploits on the frontiers of New York, the In- 
dian exhibited a tobacco pouch of delicate 
leather. 'This,' said the crafty warrior, 'me got 
in war. Me kill white woman, rip open belly, 
find papoose, skin him some, and make pouch.' 
Hess also opened the box in the breech of his 
rifle and exhibited some evidence he there car- 
ried of the number of scalps he had taken in the 
war. The tally,' said Foster afterwards, 'ran up 
to the almost incredible number of forty-five,' 
and he added, T had almost a notion to shoot 
him on the spot.' 

"Just before parting the Indian inquired of his 
companion his name, and on hearing it he ex- 
claimed, 'Ha, Nat Foster, you bad man, you kill 
Indians.' 

"On the Indian making recognition of him, 
Foster thought he detected in his look and man- 
ner a 'lurking devil' that seemed to say, 'if ever 
you fall into my power you will feel it:' and 



Nat Foster. 215 

hearing him call him an 'Indian killer' he be- 
lieved the old Indian, if opportunity presented, 
would not scruple to take his life also. The 
boast of murdered innocence had drawn a frown 
across the sunburnt brow and stern features of 
the white hunter, that seemed to send back a 
defiance to the red man's look of meditated 
death. But they parted, and if not as friends, 
certainly not as avowed enemies. But each, no 
doubt, felt apprehensive that a second interview 
might not terminate so fortunately for both of 
them; and certain it is, that one of them at least 
resolved not to be over reached by the other. 

"Not long after the above incident transpired, 
loster was threading the forest alone in the 
northern part of Herkimer county, in the pursuit 
of game. In a secluded spot, far away from any 
regular trail, he came unexpectedly upon and 
shot a moose cow. While securing the noble 
game, its mate, a most ferocious bull, being at- 
tracted to the spot by the bellowing of the dam, 
attacked him with great fury. In a dodging 
fight the hunter was obliged to make some two 
or three shots in rapid succession. Foster re- 
loaded his rifle before he ventured to approach 
even a fallen animal that had been so tenacious 
of life. He seldom changed his position in the 
woods without a charge in his gun. While ad- 



2i6 Life and Adventures of 

vancing to the fallen bull he was startled to hear 
footsteps within a short distance, and w^as possi- 
bly not less surprised to find in the person of 
his new visitant the muscular form of the Indian 
Hess. 

"Hess, supposing, as is presumed, that Fos- 
ter's rifle was unloaded, now experienced no dif- 
ficulty in 'murdering tne king's English,' and at 
the end of a mighty whoop that told credibly for 
his lungs and the absence of balsams, shouted, 
'Now Foster, me got you, me kin you now.' Be- 
tween Hess and his intended victim there was a 
-little marsh over which a tree had fallen. Mount- 
ing the log to approach the white hunter, he 
advanced with uplifted tomahawk and death 
boding mien, when the report of a rifle again 
echoed amid the fir tops of the forest, a bullet 
plowed its way through the Indian's heart, and 
with a guttural groan, the dark warrior fell dead 
upon the marsh. Lest Hess might not be un- 
accompanied in the forest, the eagle-eyed marks- 
man hastily reloaded his rifle, and then quickly 
stamped the corpse of his victim deep into the 
soft mud of the marsh. Dark mystery hung over 
the fate of this lone hunter for years. Many re- 
membered that his disappearance was sudden 
and unexpected: and others remembered that 
they had heard Foster say shortly after meeting 



Nat Foster. 217 

him at Little Falls, that he had seen him once 
and only once after that. 

"He confidently communicated many years 
affer to Jacob S. Christman, v.'ith whom he was 
hunting, the fate of this unfortunate savage for 
whom — 

"No solemn bell's metallic tongue, 
E'er toll'd its death note on the breeze; 
Zephyrs alone his requiem rung, 
Where ivy green her mantle hung 
'Mid plumed and bowing trees." 

Thus does Simms beautifully close his de- 
scription of the grewsome event, throwing the 
mantle of sentiment about the poor Indian's 
death. Would that we were all as kindly dis- 
posed and as gentle in our expressions. 

Foster was not given up to any extent to the 
influence of sentiment. To him the shooting of 
an Indian under such circumstances was a grim 
necessity; there was no poetry about it for him. 
Nor did any scruple probably enter his mind at 
the taking of Indians' lives. And how coiild w^e 
expect it would? W^ith his birth and his early 
years spent in a locality where the red man was 
regarded as a deadly foe, and wdiose introduc- 
tion into New York State, and to the Adiron- 
dack wilderness was accomplished with stern 
15 



21 8 Life and Adventures of 

conflicts with still barbarous members of the 
race. 

In the same way he regarded the trapping of 
game and shooting of deer. It was a matter of 
business with him; God had made the forests 
and put the wild animals there for his and others' 
use, and so he plied his trade as industriously as 
possible, even unto his old age, shooting his 
deer, bears and panthers, and trapping the 
smaller quadrupeds with zeal, thinning out the 
Indians whenever necessary; and though he 
sometimes displayed what would appear to many 
as an unjustifiable desire to slaughter game, yet 
it was because he regarded the business from a 
commercial standpoint. 

Simms gives in his book, some accounts of a 
W. S. Benchley's association with Foster in a 
few of his hunts. This man and the famous 
hunter were once fishing from a boat on one < f 
the Fulton Chain of lakes, when Foster discov- 
ered an old doe and two fawns feeding on the 
shore, about a quarter of a mile distant. The 
fawns were about as big as lambs at two months 
old. Foster was on fire in an instant. If he 
could kill the doe, he said, he could easily secure 
the fawns, and their runnets would bring him 
fifty cents each. Benchley remonstrated with 
liim for wanting- to kill the little fellows for so 



Nat Foster. 219 

small a gain, and proposed to pay him the dollar 
and let them go. But no; that would not be 
earning it, and nothing would satisfy him short 
of a shot. His companion then refused to row 
him within shot; one look, however, from Fos- 
ter satisfied him that he might as well comply. 
In doing so he however managed to make some 
noise in the water to frighten the doe and her 
fawns away, but not without strong expressions 
of opinion from Foster that he did it intention- 
ally. 

The same person says that one time upon en- 
tering the Seventh lake with Foster, the eagle 
eve of the -latter discovered a buck feeding upon 
a grassy beach nearly half a mile away. 

Said Foster, "Benchley, put me ashore and I 
will give you some venison for dinner." 

Benchley did so, and then rowed out into the 
lake far enough to see the deer. After watching 
some time he saw Foster step stealthily from the 
bushes upon the beach; at the same instant the 
l)uck raised his head in alarm and the watcher 
immediately saw the puff of smoke from Foster's 
rifle, and the deer fell. At the hunter's call 
Benchley rowed to him, he not knowing Bench- 
lev had seen him shoot or the deer fall. 

"Well, Uncle Nat, said Benchley, "have you 
killed him?" The old hunter straightened up 



2 20 Life and Adventures of 

like a soldier, with his eyes flashing; grasping 
his rifle in his right hand and holding it aloft, 
he exclaimed, "Benchley, he never told a lie, 
when he speaks he tells the truth." His com- 
panion stepped ashore, and going to the carcass 
of the dead buck found he had put the ball pre- 
cisely in the center of its forehead. "And con- 
sidering," says Benchley, "that Foster was fully 
twenty-five rods from the animal and that he 
fired the instant it raised its head, it was an un- 
usually good shot, even for him.' They dressed 
the carcass and as Foster had promised, they 
had venison for their dinner. 



CHAPTER XII. 



ONE time Foster's life was threatened by a 
pack of hungry wolves. The way he con- 
ducted himself on the occasion, and the manner 
in which he afterwards related the occurrence 
was characteristic of the man. It happened 
early in the spring, after he had been home for 
a short time and had returned to the wilderness 
for a final six weeks of trapping. On the third 
day in, he reached the beginning of his line of 
traps, at the intersection of the Lime Kiln creek 
and Moose river, where he camped for the night. 
His traps extended from here, up the 
creek to the lake of the same name. From there 
they ran north to Fourth Lake on the Fulton 
Chain, then taking a northeasterly course they 
extended as far as Racquet Lake. 

The morning following his camp at the mouth 
of Lime Kiln creek, he startea up the stream, 
visiting his traps as he went along. Although he 
did not expect to find much game in them, he 
visited them all for the purpose of setting and re- 
baiting those requiring it. As they lay on both 



2 22 Life and Adventures of 

sides of the stream he was constantly crossing- 
from one side to the other on convenient logs 
and fallen trees, making sIoav progress up the 
stream. Not until he reached the falls on the 
creek, where he arrived in the middle of the 
afternoon, did he find game to amount to any- 
thing. Below and in the vicinity of the falls, he 
took from various traps and snares, three bea- 
vers, a fisher, one red fox, and several mink. 
This was better than he had expected, for bea- 
vers were usually caught by baiting the traps 
with fresh castereum or beaver caster obtained 
from the carcass of any beaver and setting the 
trap near the school or settlement of beavers. 
Minks w^ere usually snared with the aid of a 
fresh decoy trail made by dragging the entrails 
and stomach of a deer or other large animal over 
the snow and setting dead falls and small steel 
traps baited with meat along the course. As he 
had not been on the ground for some time to 
attend to these details of the trapper's art, he 
was agreeably surprised to find so many of these 
animals taken. 

Gathering all together, he carried them to a 
large fiat rock at the foot of a hill opposite the 
falls, and set about the task of skinning the game, 
casting the fiayed carcasses on the ground by 
his side. As it was late when he completed the 



Nat Foster. 223 

work he decided to camp where he was for the 
night. With an eye to the speedy erection of a 
sheher for himself, he selected the spot where 
he had been working, and appropriated a side 
of the rock that was perpendicular to rest the 
roof o{ his hut upon; he quickly made a little 
bower of boughs by placing poles from the rock 
to the ground and covering them and closing- 
one side with the branches of evergreens. Then 
cutting a huge armful of the evergreens he 
strewed them on the ground underneath the lit- 
tle roof, and had a snug and well sheltered place 
for the night. After gathering some firewoocl 
he prepared his evening meal, which consisted 
of a slice of corned venison toasted on a spit, 
tea made in his tin teapot, and bread which he 
had thus early in the trip. 

While eating his supper he heard the dismal 
howl of a wolf, as if calling another. Soon it 
was answered by a responsive howl from one 
deep in the woods, and this again was taken up 
by another still deeper in the forest. Such 
sounds were familiar to the lone hunter en- 
camped by the rock, and he finished his repast, 
lighted his pipe, and settled himself for a com- 
fortable smoke, without givng heed to the dole- 
ful sounds that came from the depths of the 
woods; still the howls continued, increasing as 



2 24 -^^^^ ^"c^ Adventures of 

the darkness deepened. The wolves were evi- 
dently gathering- in a pack for some purpose or 
another, but not thinking that they would dis- 
turb him, Foster finished his pipe with com- 
posure, and replenishing the fire, betook himself 
to his shelter, and wrapping his blanket about 
him, sought the sleep he desired and needed. 
At intervals of two or three minutes he would 
hear the long drawn out howl which would have 
sent terror to the heart of a person unused to 
such sounds, but which did not at all disturb our 
hero, who suffered himself to sink into a peace- 
ful slumber, from which he was awakened in a 
couple of hours by the most startling noises that 
ever fell on a hunter's ears. His fire had burned 
low and the wolves had surrounded his camp 
in a pack, being attracted by the smell of the 
carcasses of the beavers and minks he had left 
by the rock. They were now having a furious 
fight over the meat, barking, yelling, squealing 
and snapping at each other in their eagerness 
to get the toothsome morsels. 

For an instant Foster was frightened at the 
fearful din they were making and was puzzled as 
to how he was to escape from the predicament, 
for the pack had completely surrounded his 
camp, and were even crowded together in front 
of the opening of his hut. Seizing his rifle and 



Nat I' osier . 225 

ammunition he crawled out of his shelter and 
sprang for the rock, leaping over the ferocious 
brutes, who snapped at him as he cleared them. 

The pack instantly surrounded the rock, and 
with howls and snarls they sat upon their 
haunches, licking their chops in expectation as 
they eyed the lone man hungrily, for the little 
meat afforded them by the carcasses of the bea- 
vers and minks, were nothing to a pack of 
wolves that had been enduring hunger a whole 
winter. 

Once on the rock, Foster regained his com- 
posure and prepared to begin an onslaught on 
his foes by putting the usual six rifle balls be- 
tween his fingers, and placing his powder horn 
within his easy and mechanical reach. 

'T will say right here," said Foster, in after 
years, when he would relate the adventure, ''it 
was not a very desirable place to be in, par- 
ticularly if a man was anything of a coward, for 
the wolves were desperate and bound to have a 
square meal before they quit. But as captain 
of my own company, I determined to keep a 
cool head; I gave the word to assault the enemy 
and opened fire on the varmints, and if I ever 
made six shots in one minute I done it then, 
and though I couldn't see the sight of my gun 
I could see the outlines of the wolves bv the 



2 26 Life and Adventures of 

light of the moon plain enough, and picked 'em 
off easy. At first they seemed inclined to stand 
their ground, and as fast as I could thin 'em out 
they would close up together like a lot of sol- 
diers; but after a few rounds they began to 
weaken, and soon commenced to back ofif, and 
at last the retreat became general, and I was 
master of the field." 

In fact, he had either killed, wounded or driven 
away the wdiole pack by his rapid and deadly 
firing. But with his usual indifference he de- 
scended from the rock and throwing more wood 
on the fire, sought his blanket again, not even 
looking out for the wolves he might have killed. 
He was not to remain long undisturbed, how- 
ever, for he was awakened again in a couple of 
hours, by the woives barking and yelping over 
a bone or possibly the body of one of their own 
number, down by the river. But as they were 
not threatening him, he rolled over for another 
nap, when he heard them approaching with om- 
inous growls. Seizing his rifle he crawled out 
again, and stood his ground, this time in front 
of the rock. They were cowardly now, and 
kept outside of the feeble glare of light sent out 
by the glowing embers of his fire. He waited 
for them to come nearer, but as they kept back 
in the darkness, he fired at them at random. 



Nat Foster. 227 

"In a few moments/' he declared, "all was as 
quiet as a grave yard;" and going back to his 
couch of boughs he rested quietly the remain- 
der of the night. 

The next morning he went out and inspected 
the field of battle, finding twelve dead wolves, 
and one wounded one some distance from the 
scene of the night's action, making thirteen in 
all. A number which he declared was unlucky 
generally, but was lucky for him on that occa- 
sion, as he succeeded in getting all the heads 
and pelts out of the woods, and ultimately col- 
lecting the large bounty due him. 

Foster first visited Bald Mountain and the 
First Lake on Fulton Chain when a young man, 
and before any improvements had been made 
there. What is now so well known as the Old 
Forge did not exist. Brown or his son-in-law 
Herreshoff had not yet penetrated the wilder- 
ness, or probably even contemplated what was 
afterwards their vain attempt to subdue it, and 
cultivate the stubborn soil or wring from the 
heart of the mountains the valuable ores that 
are still believed by many to be there. 

Fabulous stories are told of hunters finding 
extensive lodes of iron and lead, and it is some- 
times hinted even more valuable ore. It is told 
of Foster that on one occas'i /n when he was 



2 28 Life and Adventures of 

sojourning for some time on the Chain, a party 
of Indians invited him to join them in shooting 
at a mark, but that he decHned on the ground 
that he could not afford to waste his buHets, 
for, although, he had the moulds for running 
bullets for his rifle he had no more lead. At 
this, it is said, one of the Indians volunteered to 
get him all the lead he wanted ; taking his canoe 
the Indian paddled up First Lake, being gone a 
couple of hours. When he returned he had a 
lump of almost pure lead, as large as his head, 
v^diich he declared he got from a "rock" in the 
woods; but its location he would not divulge. 
The truth of this story cannot be verified. 

Another circumstance related of him, how- 
ever, goes to show without doubt that Foster 
did find valuable ore or carbon in his wander- 
ings in the wilderness. For he and his son 
David, who lived with him for a time at Old 
Forge, were aware of the existence of a vein 
— of valuable material of some kind. They never 
revealed its location, and after they withdrew 
from the wilderness, at the shooting of the 
Indian Drid, they abandoned, for a time at least, 
the idea of gaining any benefit from their know- 
ledge. Finally Foster died, and his son David 
removed to Ohio. After a short residence there, 
he returned to New York with the express in- 



Nat Foster. 229. 

tentions of making use of his knowledge of the 
location of the vein in question; but before his 
plans were matured he was injured by an ac- 
cident. A stone fell on his limbs and crushed 
them, from the elTects of which he died. Before 
his death, he dictated to his family a descrip- 
tion of the trail to be followed from the Old 
Forge tO' the vein, which was taken down in 
writing by a member of his family. This docu- 
ment which I have seen, is now^ in the posses- 
sion of one of his kinsmen. But it would be 
dil^.cult, if not an almost impossible task, it 
seems to me to make any use of it; as the 
course is indicated by certain trees, stumps, 
hillocks and rocks which must be quite changed 
now. If this vein, which from the paper I would 
take to be either lead or coal, and which a dying 
man considered important enough to dictate 
directions to, is ever found, it must be by re- 
newed searches and developments. 

But let us leave this "prospecting" feature into 
which my story has drifted, and listen to an 
adventure Foster nad on this tract with a 
couple of Indians, in which he disposed of them 
in his usual way. 

As I have said, when he was wont to first visit 
the tract around the Old Forge and Fulton 
Chain, it was still as wild and uninhabited as 



230 Life and Adventures of 

in its most primitive days. It was destined 
however, to be the scene of activity and industry 
for ,a Httle while, then to relapse almost into a 
state of nature again, when it was to be the scene 
of the closing tragedy in the hunter's life, and 
finally to become the resort of thousands of 
sportsmen and others, seeking pleasure, recrea- 
tion and health. 

Foster first visited the part of the wilderness 
in July. Hunters often went into the woods 
at this time of the year to 1)uild taeir camps, as 
the bark of trees would peel readily oiily at tnis 
time. He "toted" m a great load of traps, and 
left them at Second Lake. He then proceeded 
to Fourth Lake, where he made himself a canoe. 
He then returned tO' Second Lake, getting his 
traps and scattering them along his contem- 
plated winter's route, going as far as Long 
Lake. This task of distributing and concealing 
his traps being completed, he returned to Eighth 
Lake, where he built a substantial camp of logs 
and bark, located at the foot of the lake near the 
outlet. This he intended to use as his head- 
quarters for the winter. 

Hunters found it necessary as well as conven- 
ient to erect "way stations" or small camps 
along their routes, where they could store some 
wood for a cjuick fire, and have a convenient 



Nat Foster. 231 

place to stop if night overtook them before they 
could return to their main camp. So after erect- 
ing the snug cabin on Eighth Lake, Foster 
rowed to the foot of First Lake, and looked 
about for a suitable place for locating one of 
these camps. Near the outlet of the lake he 
found what he recognized at once as a capital 
thing for a way station, and also a valuable 
place of concealment for whatever he wished to 
hide from roving Indians. It was the stump or 
stub of a huge hollow tree. The trunk of the 
tree had been broken ofT about seven feet from 
the ground, doubtless by some gale of wind. 
He cut a hole through the shell of the stump, 
and then cleaned and hewed out the rotten wood 
inside, so that he had a little room nearly six feet 
\\\ diameter. By roofing the top w4th bark he 
had a tight and snug place of concealment for 
his things, and ample room for himself and his 
dog, if they were ever overtaken in those parts 
by a thunder storm, or had to spend the night 
there. Putting- his pack basket on the bottom, 
he could seat himself thereon, and wath his dog 
at his feet, could comfortably spend a few hours 
of repose in this strange hut. 

Much pleased wnth the afTair, he gathered 
some dry wood, and put it together with some 
traps, an axe, his tin teapot and frying pan in- 



232 Life and Adventures of 

side, and closed the aperture he had made in the 
side by drawing the bushes around it. FelUng- 
a sapling so that its bushy top rested on the top 
of the stump, thus effectually concealing the 
bark roof. He concealed his boat by the shore, 
and turned his face homeward, well satisfied 
that he would find things as he had left them. 
He returned the following November, and found 
everything undisturbed; and commenced opera- 
tion at once, setting traps on his route, operating 
along the Fulton Chain, up the head waters to 
Racquet Lake, and on to Long Lake, which 
marked the end of his extensive course. It took 
him a week to make the round. Then he re- 
turned to his camp on Eighth Lake, and "set up 
housekeeping" in his cabin. 

At first his success was far beyond his ex- 
pectations; taking unusually large c[uantities of 
fur, SO' that the outlook was for a season of the 
most profitable trapping he had ever had. At 
the end of a few weeks, however, the amount of 
game he took from his traps grew constantly 
less, the decrease being most prominent on the 
northern part of his route. He found footprints 
of Indians on this part of his line, and knew at 
once that they were stealing from his traps. 
They operated very cautiously, however, and he 
saw nothinof of them, or of the carcasses of the 



Nat Foster. 233 

animals they must have taken from his traps. 
They were so sly that he ceased attending to 
the upper end of his. route, and only operated 
between his camp at Eighth Lake and his stump 
camp at the foot of First Lake, for he knew that 
if he stopped setting and baiting his traps on 
the upper section of the route, the Indians, who 
were too lazy to either take traps into the woods, 
or attend to them even after they were placed, 
would then come down to the lower end of his 
route, and he would then have an opportunity 
to settle with them. 

This plan worked as he expected. One fore- 
noon he returned to his camp at Eighth Lake, 
having spent the night at his stump camp, and 
found the carcasses of several beavers and fish- 
ers by the camp. He examined them and found 
the marks of a trap on each one. This made 
him thoroughly mad; he was bringmg traps 
from his home in Salisbury, toting them on his 
back some forty miles, and then the Indians 
getting the benefit. He resolved to ''clean the 
Indians out," even if he had to "scare them 
clear to Canada" in doing it. 

Thev were evidently in the vicinity now, and 

he determined to meet and "fix" them ere the 

sun went down. Fortune materially assisted 

him in carrving out this resolve, though he did 

i'6 



2 34 -^*^^ ^"^' Adventures of 

not actually accoinplish it until long after sun- 
set. 

Taking his rifle and getting into his canoe, he 
paddled swiftly, but cautiously, down the lakes, 
keeping a sharp lookout for the Indians. He 
went so far as Sixth Lake without seeing any- 
thing of them. At the foot of Sixth Lake he 
had to "carry," but undaunted he took his canoe 
on his shoulders, and quickly walked to Fifth 
Lake without a stop. Launching his craft here, 
he continued on his course to Fourth Lake, 
wh' Tc lie concluded to visit some of his traps to 
see if the Indians had visited them yet. Rowing 
into a little cove in the shore opposite Bear 
Island, he drew his canoe into some l^ushes that 
grew to the water's edge, and made his way to 
some mink traps he had set, quite a distance in 
the wooci.*-. He found them unmolested, some 
having game in them; this he took and returned 
to the lake. What was his surprise on reaching 
It to find a pack of furs, with some game, lying 
un the shore. He drew back into the bushes 
mimediately upon discovering the heap, and 
peered cautiously around for those who had 
l)rought it. 

Looking out upon the lake he was not sur- 
prised at seeing a canoe being paddled by two 
Indians towards the island. When thev reached 



Nat Foster. 235 

it they drew their canoe on the shore, and taking 
their rifles, disappeared in the woods that were 
then very dense on the island. 

Foster now coiichided that these Indians had 
left the fur and game where it was, to go and 
explore the island, expecting to find him en- 
camped there. He had no doubt from their 
actions that they intended to shoot him if they 
found him there, and then return to get the 
things they had left, and continued their round 
of his traps. He examined the bodies of the 
mink and fisher that the Indians had left with 
the pack of furs, and found that they were still 
warm; and having the marks of the traps on 
their limbs, he knew that they had been but 
recently taken from his traps farther up the 
lake. The Indians were probably ashore when 
he rowed down, and did not see him, nor he 
them. 

Fortunately he had taken pains to conceal his 
canoe when he landed, so that it escaped the 
Indians observation. Drawing it from the bush- 
es, he hastily put the furs and all the game in it, 
and paddled rapidly down the lakes to his 
stump camp at the foot of Fourth Lake; when 
he arrived it was about four o'clock in the after- 
noon. The first thing he did was to start a fire, 
and cook himself some supper from provisions 



236 Life and Adventures of 

he had in the stump. After appeasing the hun- 
ger his long fast from morning had created, he 
began putting in operation a plan he had 
thought of for fooling the Indians. He knew 
they would soon return to the cove for the 
things they had left, and finding them gone^ 
would probably conclude that he had visited the 
spot and taken them, and returned to his camp 
on Eighth Lake, of the existence of which he 
knew they must be aware. Thinking he had 
gone up the lakes, they would continue on down 
the lakes, robbing his traps as they went. When 
they reached the foot of First Lake, they would 
look about for a camp, and he resolved to have 
one ready for them. 

Selecting a favorable spot a few rods from his 
stump, he proceeded tO' build one of those com- 
fortable little huts of boughs he was so expert 
in making in so short a time. On completing 
the shelter he arranged a pile of hemlock twigs 
under it, and covered them with a blanket, so 
that it looked exactly like a figure of a man 
reposing. By the time he had completed all of 
these arrangements it was dusk; he now started 
a fire in front of the open end of the shanty, and 
betook himself tO' his hollow stump, and seat- 
ing himself on his pack basket, with his dog 
at his feet, and his rifle between his knees, he 
waited to see what would come of his ruse. 



Nat Foster. 237 

As the darkness deepened the fire blazed more 
brightly, for he had put on a great quantity of 
wood. He watched its fierce burning with satis- 
faction, for he knew that if the Indians were in 
the vicinity they would see it, and as it burned 
low, and the night advanced they would inves- 
tigate it. It was a weary vigil, and he allowed 
himself to fall into a doze, as he knew faithful 
old Watch would awaken him when the Indians 
came. He was a faithful canine, an exact coun- 
terpart of his mother Rose, who was the hunter's 
companion in his youth. 

Foster had dozed and slept some time, when 
the dog roused him by his trembling body as it 
lay against his feet. He knew at once that 
Watch had scented the Indians. He cocked his 
rifle and peered out of the opening in the 
stump. The fire was now a heap of coals, which 
sent out a ruddy glow, just lighting up the in- 
terior of the hut of boughs, revealing the blanket 
as a sleeping man. His cjuick ear soon detected 
the careful dip of a paddle, and in a few moments 
he saw lurough the trees the two Indians in 
their canoe, appear from the inky darkness 
which hung over the waters of the lake; they 
paddled to the shore, stepped carefully out, and 
pulled their boats onto the beach. 

Thev stood motionless on the shore for a 



238 Life and Adventures of 

couple of minutes, with their rifles in their hands 
taking observations, and then began to pick 
their way carefully towards the camp. 

Said Foster in relating this adventure: "As I 
watched 'em I got most excited as my dog, and 
could hardly keep from leaping out of my 
stump, and actually shooting 'em. The two 
red devils skulked along craning their necks, 
nodding their heads, and motioning to each 
other as they pointed to the fire and the hut. 
They would advance about three steps, and then 
they would stop and look and listen, and alto- 
gether .acted like two of the most detestable and 
cowardly whelps that they were. 

"Finally they got where they could see inside 
of the hut, and then the cusses had to stop and 
have another conflab with each other in their 
sign talk. I most made up my mind again to 
shoot 'em dead, they looked and acted so cus- 
sedly devilish, and I did get out of my stump 
and got up behind a big hemlock tree ready to 
shoot 'em; but I restrained msyelf and let 'em 
proceed. Finally they moved again, and worked 
up closer, so they had a good view of what they 
thought was me in the hut. Then, after a little 
more of their motioning, they both took aim at 
the blanket and fired. 

"And this transaction" Foster was wont to 



Nat Foster. 239 

say in concluding his account of the story, "so 
excited me that I yelled in my excitement, and 
mv dog bayed with a vengeance, and sometimes 
I've thought," he would say in a reminiscent 
manner, "that I must have fired twice right in 
the direction of them Indians, but I was so ex- 
cited I don't exactly remember. But anyhow, 
I know I discharged my gun, and I've always 
been of the opinion that it had the desired effect, 
for Watch and me didn't have any more trouble 
with the red devils after I scart 'em away from 
mv stump camp, and I had a fine season jf 
trapping." 

This was Foster's first encounter with Indians 
on the Fulton Chain, and occurred several years 
before any white man had penetrated the wild- 
erness to settle it. We see how easily he ac- 
counted then for the way in which he disposed 
of the Indians that troubled him. 

Years after, however, he was to have an en- 
counter with another one of the race, the serious 
outcome of which could not be easily gotten 
rid of. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



DURING the time intervening between the 
adventures with which the preceding 
cnapter closes, and the tragedy narrated in the 
next, whch is the closing event in the life of our 
herO', there were mighty changes wrought at 
that section of the Adirondack wilderness, 
where they occurred. 

I am greatly indebted to C. E. Snyder, Esq., 
of Herkimer, N. Y., for much of my knowledge 
of the history of the tract where the closing 
tragedy of Eoster's life occurred. Mr. Snyder 
recently prepared a paper on "Brown's Tract," 
which he read before the Historical Society of 
Herkimer County. He has given me the privi- 
lege, which I gladly avail myself of, of using his 
manuscript in my description of the develop- 
ment of the country where Eoster hunted so 
many years; which development has such an 
important bearing on the closing scenes of his 
last days as a hunter and trapper. 

In 1798, John Brown, a capitalist of Rhode 
Island, and a conspicuous patriot during the 



Nat Foster. 241 

war of the Revolution, and afterwards a mem- 
ber of Congress, came into possession of the 
region known so many years as "Brown's 
Tract." He got it through the foreclosure of 
a second mortgage he held on the territory. It 
embraced 210,000 acres about the head waters 
of Moose River. It lay in the northern part of 
Herkimer, tne western part of Hamilton, and 
the eastern part of Lewis Counties, and in- 
cluded the Fulton Chain of lakes. 

These lakes received their name from Robert 
Fulton, the inventor of the steamboat. He ex- 
plored the region in 181 1, to ascertain the 
practicability of adopting the lakes and streams 
there, into the canal system which was then 
being developed by the legislature of the State. 
Fultoii was very enthusiastic over the beautiful 
chain, and probably made reference to it in his 
first report to the Canal Commission, of which 
he was a member. At all events, from this time 
the lakes have been known as "the Fulton 
Chain." 

After the close of the War of the Revolution, 
a large part of the territory of Northern New 
York passed through the hands of speculators, 
who inaugurated a land boom, which must 
have been something like the western land 
booms of recent years. But one man it appears 



242 Life and Adventures of 

made any money. That was William Constable, 
who boug-ht 1,920,000 acres in 1792, and in the 
same year sold 1,280,000 acres, including what 
was afterwards Brown's Tract, to Samuel Ward 
of New York City, for one hundred thousand 
pounds. He doubled his money by the deal, 
and had 640,000 acres of his original purchase 
left. The ownership of this tract of 1,128,000 
acres passed through several hands, until a 
part of it, what afterwards came into possession 
of Brown, was owned by Philip Livingston of 
New York City. A son-in-law of Brown's 
named Francis was responsible for the acquire- 
ment of the land by l>rown, according to the 
statements of Mr. Snyder in his paper. He 
says : 

"The story is told by the descendants of 
Brown's family, that a cargo of Indian mer- 
chandise had been landed and sold by Francis, 
who was an agent of Brown. Francis fell in 
with some land speculators, and yielding to the 
real estate boom then so universally prevalent, 
is said to^ have invested $50,000 of the money ol 
John Brown in a second mortgage on Brown's 
Tract. This investment was from the start 
disapproved of by Brown, and was a source to 
him and his family of considerable loss. 

''After Brown had acquired title to the land 



Nat Foster. 243 

upon the foreclosure oi the Livingston mort- 
gage, he began to take measures to develop 
and settle the country. He first caused a sur- 
vey of the land to be made by Arnold Smith, 
Elkanah French and John Allen. The 210,000 
acres were sub-divided into eight townships, 
which were numbered from one to eight con- 
secutively, and also named. The names which 
Brown gave them are mottoes which are said 
to have been used by him in his business career. 
Township No. i was named Industry and was 
surveyed into 160 acre farms. Township No. 2 
was named Enterprise and was surveyed into 
one-half mile squares. Township No. 3 was 
named Perseverance and was also surveyed into 
one-half mile squares. Township No. 4 was 
named Unanimity, Township No. 5 Frugality, 
Township No. 6 Sobriety, Township No. 7 Econ- 
omy, Township No. 8 Regularity. 

"After surveying the land Brown built a road 
through the forest from Remsen, Oneida county, 
to Township No. 7, upon his tract, a distance of 
about twenty-five miles. The road terminated 
near the south shore of the middle branch of 
Moose river in the center of the township, about 
two miles from the south boundary line of his 
tract, at which place he planned a settlement. 
The building of this road for a single individual 



244 ^^^^ o;ifl? Adventures of 

must have l)een a great undertaking. "^^ * Brown's 
aim was to make permanent settlements on the 
tract and to convert the wilderness into farms. 
A mill dam was built across the mouth of the 
middle branch of the Moose river, then called 
Mill creek, on the site of the present dam at Old 
Forge, for the purpose of obtaining power to 
run the sawmill and grist mill. The sawmill 
which he built is said to have been located in 
about the same place as the present sawmill at 
Old Forge. His grist mill is said tO' have been 
erected oii the opposite side of the river, a little 
lower down the stream." 

After the dam was built it was three months, 
it is said, before the water flowed over it, and a 
search was made supposing the water had found 
another outlet. 

"Personally, Brown, so far as I can find," con- 
tinues Mr. Snyder, "was only once upon the 
tract superintending its settlement. Its develop- 
ment was intrusted almost entirely to agents. 
Personally, Brown was a man of short stature 
and weighed in the neighborhood of three hun- 
dred pounds. He drove about in a specially con- 
structed gig, built low so as to make it possible 
for him to get in and out. However, notwith- 
standing these physical defects, his descendants, 
I am informed, have recently discovered a letter 



Nat Foster. 245 

showing that under ah these personal disadvan- 
tages he made a visit to the tract. 

"Brown did not long survive his attempted 
settlement; he died in 1803. How many settlers 
there were, and who they were and whence they 
came, is not known, so far as I have learned. 
The climate was cold and unfavorable for agri- 
cultural operations. The soil was poor, the loca- 
tion in the center of a large dreary forest, miles 
and miles away from any settlement. The tide 
of immigration was all towards the west, leaving 
this little community far to one side. Gradually 
the settlers w'hom he brought there left the place. 

"By the will of John Brown the title to the 
larger part of Brown's Tract passed to his grand- 
son, John Brown Francis, of Warwick, Rhode 
Island. Francis was at one time a Senator, rep- 
resenting his State in the United States Senate, 
and subsequently became its Governor. ' 

Brown had another son-in-law named Charles 
F. HerreshofY, wdio became interested in the 
tract, through renewed attempts made by Fran- 
cis to settle the tract after the war of 1812. 
He purchased a considerable part of Township 
No. 7, where he afterwards built his famous 
forge. He was a German by birth, and had a 
commanding appearance, being six feet tall, and 
very gentlemanly in his w^ays. It is also said 



246 Life and Adventures of 

that he was extremely proud and aristocratic, 
though this must be taken with consideration, 
for those from whom was received this verdict 
were the hardy settlers of the rural parts of the 
country w^ho would not appreciate the retiring 
disposition and courteous bearing of a foreign 
gentleman. He was a finished scholar. 

He went onto the tract in 18 17 and spent the 
greater part of his time until his death, in the 
wilderness attempting to subdue and improve it. 
It is said that as he entered the forest for the 
first time he declared with an oath, that he would 
settle the tract or settle himself. Although less 
calculated than some men of smaller mental cali- 
ber to do the great work of settling a wilderness, 
still he accomplished considerable towards the 
fulfillment of his purpose. He repaired the mills 
Brown had erected, which had fallen into decay, 
and in the course of a few years had cleared up 
large tracts of his wild territory. Iron ore had 
been discovered during the old settlements, and 
iron works were projected by Herreshoff. At 
the site of the mills he erected a forge for the 
smelting of ore, and opened several roads from 
there to the settlements he scattered about on 
the tract. 

Herreshott is said to have manufactured ex- 
actly a ton of iron at his famous forge. It was 



Nat Foster. 247 

of the very best quality, and cost, it is said, one 
dollar a pound. Black sand found on the lake 
shore and separated by magnets, was principally 
used in making this ton of iron. He expected to 
find ore in abundance in the mountains, but only 
succeeded in locating a small vein in some two 
hundred feet of rock, which he dug out at an 
enormous expense. 

Mr. wSnyder says of this attempt to obtain ore 
for smelting: "An iron mine was opened nearly 
opposite the site of the depot at Fulton Chain, 
and on the westerly side, wdiere to this day is 
■pointed out to the tourist a large hole in the 
rocks from which the ore w^as taken. Old drill 
marks are still to be seen about the mine at the 
entrance of which is a tree some eight inches in 
diameter, growing up among refuse thrown out 
of the mine; while at the bottom, fed by little 
veins of pure cold Adirondack water, is a well 
of some little depth. The place is sometimes 
spoken of as John Brown's well. '^ '•' * '^' 

''There was no power near the mine to operate 
an iron works, or to reduce the ore, and Herre- 
shofY accordingly built a mill, or forge, about 
one and a half miles away, near the dam across 
the middle branch of the Moose river, previously 
built by Brown, his father-in-law\ His forge is 
said to have been located just below the grist 



248 Life and Adventures of 

mill. Heavy machinery was taken through the 
woods and set up here in the heart of the forest. 
Considerable preparation was made for manu- 
facture of iron. A nail shop was started. 

"Coal was, of course, necessary for the reduc- 
tion of iron ore, and for this purpose charcoal 
was manufactured. " * '•'= =•= * ■'' 

"Herreshofif built for himself what must have 
been in those days and for that place, a fine 
house, made of timber and boards sawed at the 
old mill built by his father-in-law. The house 
was located nearly opposite the site of the rail- 
way depot at Fulton Chain, and on the westerly 
side, and subsequently became known as the 
Arnold house. It was standing" until about a 
year ago (1895), in a dilapidated condition, when 
it was destroyed by fire. Herreshofif also built 
a large barn a short distance from his dwelling, 
on the top of which was a cupola in which a bell 
was placed for the purpose of summoning the 
men to their meals. 

"Herreshoilf struggled heroically," says Mr. 
Snyder, "against great odds. He planned for 
the conversion of the forest into farms and at the 
same time for the development of iron mines 
and iron works. The conditions for settling the 
country were, of course, just as unfavorable with 
Herreshofif as with Brown. The settlers whom 



Nat Foster. 249 

he brought upon the tract became discontented; 
poor soil, severe cHmate and isolation in the 
midst of a great forest, was more than Herre- 
shofif could successfully contend with. Then he 
beccme indebted considerably to his miners and 
iron workers. The funds which he brought with 
him became exhausted. Drafts which he drew 
upon his family in Providence were returned 
unaccepted, and he was confronted with ruin." 
I have learned from an old resident of the 
tract, that at about this time he began to brood 
much over his troubles, and was really suspected 
of losing his mind by his employees, .and they 
rather expected that he would make aw^ay with 
himself. One day he ordered some of his men 
to the senseless task of filling up the great hole 
that had been dug in search of iron. They set 
about the work and continued it until Herre- 
shoff went dowai into the pit and then ordered 
them to continue throwing in the rocks, logs 
and brush they w^ere using to fill it wath, when 
they decided he w-ished to commit suicide, and 
laid off from w^ork that day. 

HerreshoiY is described by Simms as a good- 
feeling man in spite of his reserved ways and 
dignified bearing. "On one occasion," he says, 
"Herreshofif went wath some of his men in a 
boat to the head of Fourth Lake, to select some 
17 



250 Life and Adventures of 

pine timber. Passing one of the islands of the 
lake, he desired to be set ashore on a bluft ex- 
tending some distance into the lake. 

"He was a great smoker, and having lit his 
pipe, he concluded to increase the fumigation by 
also lighting- the grass and dry brush on the 
bluff about him. A few minutes only sufficed, 
with the breeze blowing, to spread the flames 
over the entire bluff. The wind drove the heat 
towards him, and calling for the boat to come 
to him, he gained the extreme point of land in 
hope of escaping the fire. Before the boat could 
get to him, however, the flames drove him out 
onto a tree which extended horizontally over 
the water. 

"The craft seemed to him to move at a snail's 
pace, .as the heat and smoke — of which latter 
commodity he for once had enough, — became 
more insufferable. He held on to his footing 
until he saw a sheet of flame coming along the 
trunk of the tree, and directly into his face, when 
he sprang off into the water, among the trout. 
He did not glide as noiselessly as they in that 
element, however, but floundered about like .1 
porpoise, and for once, if we mistake not, quit 
smoking with to1)acco still in his pipe; he was 
rescued by his employes, half drowned and half 
frozen, as he took the unexpected bath in Sep- 
tember, and shivered for .lOurs to pay for it." 



Nat Foster. 251 

The end came, however, in a short time; win- 
ter was upon him, and the great, ambitious 
man was no doubt keenly sensible of his utter 
helplessness. Cast down and burdened with 
despair, on the morning of the 19th of Decem- 
ber, 18 19, he went out to the northeastern cor- 
ner of his house and sent a pistol ball crashing 
through his l^rain. A young woman named 
Hannah Merry, an employee of the house, was 
outside and looking up saw her employer fall 
to the ground. The report of the firearm brought 
other of his servants and attendants from the 
house, and David Sweet and Seth Lathrop, hired 
men, carried him into the house, where he soon 
expired. 

''Such," says Simms, "was the melancholy and 
tragic fate of one of the most enterprising men 
that ever entered the wild lands of New York 
to subdue them." 

The body of HerreshofY was carried to Russia 
Corners, a distance of fifty miles, where an in- 
quest was held, after which the remains w^ere 
taken to Boonville and interred in the village 
burying ground. When the present cemetery of 
the town was laid out, his body was taken up 
Avith others in the old burial plot and interred in 
the new one, where it is now, marked by an old- 
fashioned slab of marble which his relations 



252 Life and Adventures of 

caused to be erected at his grave a few years 
after his death. It bears the simple inscription 
of "Charles Frederick Herreshoff, Obiit Dec. 
19th, 1819. Aetat 50." 

With the death of Herreshofif his settlements 
became tenantless, and remained so with ex- 
ceptions of two or three renewed attempts made 
from time to time by different families to live on 
some of the clearings. But they were generally 
deserted, being only visited by hunters who 
camped in the deserted dwellings. Those clear- 
ings about the foot of the chain were the ones 
occupied by tenants longest. Otis Arnold was 
the last one to occupy the old Herreshoff house 
and farm it for a living. He rented the place 
soon after Foster got into trouble by shooting 
the Indian at Indian Point in 1833, and remained 
there many years. He grew large crops of oats, 
and threshing them in the fall, would draw the 
grain to market in the winter; about the only 
time loads could be taken over the road, which 
had fallen into decay. 

Of this period of the history of the tract Mr. 
Snyder says: ''Many accounts are to be met 
with of visits to Arnold's, during this period, all 
of which are entertaining. In the autumn of 
T855, the Honorable Amelia M. Murray, maid 
of honor to Oueen Victoria, went over the lake 



Nat Foster. 



253 



belt of the wilderness with Governor Seymour, 
the Governor's nieces and other friends. On 
their way out they stopped at Arnold's, and the 
story of the diary of Lady Amelia is in these 
words: 'Mr. Seymour remained to make ar- 
rangements with the guide, while his niece and 
I walked on to Arnold's farm; there we found 
Mrs. Arnold and six daughters. These girls, 
aged from twelve to twenty, were placed in a 
row against the wall of the shanty, with looks 
so expressive of astonishment, that I felt puzzled 
to account for their manner, until their mother 
informed us that they had never before seen an- 
other woman than herself. I could not elicit a 
word from them, but at last when I begged for a 
little milk, the eldest went and brought me a 
glass. I then remembered that we had met a 
single hunter, rowing on Moose river, who 
called out, 'Where on earth did them women 
come from.' " 

"Another tourist, Wallace, in his 'Babes in 
the Woods,' gives this account of a visit to Ar- 
nold's: ''As we approached the house we passed 
through a yard where the daughters of the fam- 
ily were engaged in milking, with a little smok- 
ing fire beneath every cow. Here was a new- 
feature. Such remarks as the following greeted 
the ears of the milkers: "If they are not smoking 



254 -'^^'^^ ^'^d Adventures of 

their beef with the skins on!' 'I have heard of 
building fires under balky horses, out I fail to 
see the necessity of serving cows that way/ 
'Boys, can't you see,' said another, 'that this is 
done as a matter of domestic economy. The 
gradual and increased warmth acts upon the udder 
of the animal and through this upon the lacteal 
contents thereof, producing a sort of coagulation 
whereby the creamy globules are precipitated/ 
By this time we had begun to learn by experi- 
ence that the smouldering fires were smudges 
to drive the punkies from the cows so that they 
might be milked in peace." "Here, perhaps, is 
another reason," says Mr. Snyder, "why the 
Brown and Herreshofif settlements proved dis- 
astrous. Unless they knew how to manaije 
punkies, they certainly did a wise thing in mov- 
ing away." 

But let me return to the period when Foster 
occupied the house as a tenant. In May, 1830, 
the premises were leased by Caleb Lyons as 
agent of the Browns, to David and Solomon 
Maybee, for thirty dollars. Two years later, 
Feb., 1832, Foster, who had traversed the region 
as a hunter during all the vain attempts to settle 
it, purchased an assignment of the lease for ten 
dollars and moved his family there, that he 
might with greater convenience follow in his 



Nat Foster. 255 

old age his favorite avocation of a wilderness 
trapper and hunter. He intended, no doubt, to 
spend the remainder of his days there among 
the mountains and lakes he loved, and to thread 
the forests in pursuit of noble game. But he 
was destined to spend but a few years there, 
however, and that, harassed and rendered un- 
safe by a lazy, but treachrous Indian, who made 
himself at home on the tract. It seems as if the 
Indians were to be forever his foes, and that 
even in his old age, lie must administer some 
of his stern discipline to intrusive red men. 



CHAPTER XIV 



WHEN Foster took up what he intended, 
no doubt, should be his permanent resi- 
dence on Fulton Chain in 1832, he was over 
sixty-five years of age. He rented the farm at 
Salisbury to his son Amos, and took his wife 
with him into the wilderness. They occupied 
as their home the Herreshofif house. In a short 
time they were joined by their son David, ac- 
companied by his wife and child. The Fosters 
were the only white families on the clearings at 
the time, though three old bachelors lived in 
another one of the abandoned dwellings situated 
on the "Middle Clearing," being about half way 
between the Herreshof¥ house and the dam. It 
afterwards became knows as the Slocum place. 
The names of the three men were William S. 
Wood, David Chase and Wilbrd Johnson. The 
latter had gone into the woods to work in the 
forge at his trade as smelter, but upon the 
abandonment of the works he continued there, 
hunting and trapping for a living, and was joined 
by Wood and Chase in his hermitage. 




lie threw up his arms in terror at the moment of explosion,' 



Nat Fester. 257 

In a rude hut or shanty not far from their 
dweUing, hved an Indian named Peter Waters, 
but famiharly known in the forests by the name 
of Drid. He was a quarrelsome fellow, and as 
soon as Foster settled on the tract, began to 
use every conceivable means to pick a quarrel 
with him. No doubt the fact that Foster was 
known as a man who had slain many of his race 
and bore the reputation of an Indian killer, in- 
tensified his hatred of the old hunter. And from 
the fact that he was now advanced in years and 
his hghting days were practically over, Drid er- 
roneously thought he could treat him with the 
insolence and audacity he did; but he "reckoned 
without his host," for the old man had not ''lost 
his cunning," nor "his hand its skill," as the 
reckless warrior was to discover in due time. 

Foster, during his residence at the Chain, was 
very jealous of his rights there. He had leased 
the tract for the express purpose of hunting and 
trapping undisturbed during the last years of his 
life. W. S. Benchley, writing of him in 1843, 
says: "I spent several days upon the lakes with 
Foster at tnis time. He conversed but little, 
and his restless, roving eye was never still. With 
his rifle at his side, he seemed ever anxious to 
discover something on shore worthy of his un- 
erring aim. Frequently he would direct my at- 



258 Life and Adventures of 

tention to an object on some distant grassy 
beach, saying, 'See, there is a deer; watch and 
you will see it move.' He was never mistaken. 
Still, one less accustomed with the w^oods would 
very seldom have supposed that anything of the 
kind w^as in sight. The bald eagle, which is 
frequently seen in this region," continues Bench- 
ley, "Foster would never disturb, for he thought 
those noble birds were made to live unmolested 
by man, although he said, 'the cussed Injuns 
shot them.' " His sentiments appear to have 
undergone a change in this respect since his boy- 
hood, or perhaps the memory of Old Put caused 
him to entertain a sentimental regard for the 
noble bird. "He seemed to feel as though he 
w^as lord of the tract," says Benchley, ''and no 
one else, especially an Indian, had as good a 
right there as he." 

The same writer says: "Along the northern 
shore of Second Lake rises a most grand and 
sublime mountain (Bald Mountain) presenting 
the frO'Ut of a naked rock for nearly a mile, at a 
height of several hundred feet. On its summit 
Uncle Nat told me he nad often been, and that 
from that elevated position he could see the 
lakes for miles around, and that there he could 

enjoy himself 'and not be troubled by the d d 

Indians, especially that black devil, who was all 



Nat Foster. 259 

the while threatening his Hfe.' " The Indian al- 
luded to is said to have been quite successful 
in killing deer, and often "floated" for them. 
This mode of securing the noble game much 
displeased Foster and it is believed to have been 
one source of dif^culty between them. 

The real trouble between Foster and the In- 
dian began soon after the former took up his 
residence on the tract. Drid took Foster's boat 
from its moorings at the dam without his knowl- 
edge or consent, and left it a mile up the river. 
As sooii as Foster missed his boat he looked up 
the Indian and compelled him, at the muzzle of 
his rifle, to lead him to the spot where he had 
left it. He found the Indian had stove a hole 
in it, and as he was bending over examining it, 
Drid jumped on the old man and attempted to 
knife him. In spite of his age Foster threw 
him oi¥ and cocking his rifle told Drid to "Be- 
gone before I shoot you in your tracks." See- 
ing the flash of the old man's eye, he slunk sul- 
lenly away, and from that time until his death, 
he constantly threatened the hunter's life, and 
made several unsuccessful attempts to shoot or 
tomahawk him. 

The Fosters were always kind to the Indian's 
family, and when he was away on a long hunt, 
his squaw depended almost entirely on this kind- 



26o Life and Adventures of 

ness for the support of herself and children. 
This was continued after the quarrel the same as 
before. Foster kept a cow and the family of his 
Indian neighbor, as well ,as the white residents, 
were supplied with milk free of charge. But 
such articles as Foster had to bring into the 
woods, he would make a charge for. On one 
occasion when he very civilly asked the Indian 
to settle the account he became very abusive and 
made .a positive threat against the life of his 
kind-hearted old neighbor. 

"In July, about two months before his death," 
says Simms, "Drid was returning from a hunt 
in company with a white hunter named Carpen- 
ter, who frequented the tract. As they drew 
near the upper clearing the Indian discharged 
his rifle and reloaded and carefully primed it. 
His companion inquired why he did it, saying- 
he would not find game so near the clearing. 
*Me going to -shoot ole Foster,' answered Drid, 
and he did go to the Foster dwelling, and stand- 
ing some distance from the door, he hailed sev- 
eral times to draw Foster, if he was in the house, 
to an exposed situation. The halloo was an- 
swered by Mrs. Foster, who was alarmed when 
she saw the threatening attitude of her dusky 
neighbor. He incjuired for her husband, and 
being told he was not at home, he exclaimed as 
lie turned to eo, 'Me shoot him if he had been.' " 



Nat hosier. 261 

The next morning the family of Drid being 
out of provisions, apphed, as usual, to the Fos- 
ters for food. Being informed by his wife and 
Carpenter of the Indian's conduct of the night 
before, Foster took some flour and, accompanied 
by Carpenter, sought the red man's shanty to 
relieve the wants of his family and to question 
him in regards to his conduct the previous night. 
In the presence of the witness he asked Drid if 
he had not called at his door the night before, 
intending to shoot him. The Indian readily ad- 
mitted that he had, and assigned as a reason 
that he had threatened to kill him. T made no 
such threat,' said the old man, warmly; T sim- 
ply said that it wouldn't be well for you to take 
my boat again and leave it a mile from the dam 
with a hole in her bottom.' " 

Sometime after the above incident, the Indian 
w'as at the Foster dwelling with one or two of 
the neighbors, when the old trapper again asked 
him to pay his account. The Indian instantly 

flew into a passion, exclaiming, "You a d d 

liar, me don't owe you a cent," and raised his 
tomahaw'k to strike the old man, who quickly 
sprang into his house, .and reappeared instantly 
with his rifle in his hand, wdien his foe slunk 
back and exclaimed, "Foster, if ever you go to 



262 Life and Adventures of 

Eighth Lake, me kill you," and with many 
threats he went to his cabin. 

Realizing that w^iat was once his privilege in 
the woods, would not be tolerated now by law, 
Foster soon after the above occurrence, w^ent to 
Justice of the Peace Joshua Harris, of Branting- 
ham, twenty miles away, to swear out a peace 
warrant against the Indian; but the officer de- 
clined to issue one, saying that the Indian would 
be as likely to kill him if he did, as he was now 
to kill Foster. It seems that Drid was well 
known to the people in that part of Lewis 
county, and I have ascertained that he frequently 
tramped out of the woods to the settlements for 
bartering and trading. The Justice advised Fos- 
ter to remove himself and family from the forest. 

''What!'' exclaimed Foster, "after I've hunted 
the red devils there over thirty years, be scared 
away by one? If you won't give me protection, 
then I'll protect myself;" and with this decision 
he returned to the tract and continued his hunt- 
ing and trapping. 

The little community of tw^elve or fifteen souls, 
composed of the Fosters, the three bachelors and 
the Indian's family, was occasionally visited by 
men who came to spend a few days or a week 
in hunting and fishing. They were generally 
residents of the towns on the borders of the 



Nat Foster. 263 

wilderness in Oneida and Lewis counties. Par- 
ties of half a dozen men would come from Low- 
ville or Boonville, spend the night with Foster, 
and make arrangements with him or his son to 
act as guide up the lakes. The bachelors also 
acted as guides to the visitors who occasionally 
came in. This may be regarded as the begin- 
ning of the present extensive excursions and 
trips to the Adirondacks, made by thousands 
every summer. It was also, I believe, the be- 
ginning of the extensive system of guiding now 
maintained by a noble lot of fellows, as a whole, 
who' make it their entire business the greater 
part of the year, to guide and assist the visitors 
about through the net work of trails that now 
girdle the entire wilderness. 

The journey into the wilderness, too, has been 
facilitated in recent years by the construction of 
the Adirondack and St. Lawrence, and Mohawk 
and Malone railways, whereby one may quickly 
and comfortably reach the heart of the moun- 
tain and lake region to enjoy the superb scenery, 
the invigorating atmosphere, and restful stillness 
of the grand and mighty district. 

If he chooses, he may angle for the saucy 
trout, or hunt, at the proper season, for deer; 
and yet, if not successful in either diversion, he 
should still be well satisfied and repaid by rea- 



264 ^t^^ cif^d Adventures of 

son of his simple presence in that grand park 
of nature, which has successfully resisted, thtis 
far, the vandal hand of man. It is to be hoped 
that the lawmakers of the State will take steps 
to properly protect and preserve it, both from 
destructive speculations m its wealth of timber, 
and from monopoly in ownership and control of 
its beautiful rivers and lakes, and boundless ex- 
panse of forests wdiich should be kept open for 
use by all who wish to properly use the great 
park for rest and recreation. 

Early in the month of September, 1833, four 
men in the town of Ley den, then on the edge 
of the wilderness, arranged to go to Fulton 
Chain on a salmon fishing trip. The party con- 
sisted of Jonathan Tyler, and his son Willis, 
Herman Thomas and Nelson Stimpson. They 
started for the chain on foot the morning of the 
1 6th, and arrived at the old Herreshoff house 
in the afternoon. Foster was at home and gave 
them a hearty welcome. One or two of the 
party were well acquainted with him, while one, 
Mr. Stimpson, had never met him before, 
though, of course, thoroughly familiar with his 
name and reputation as a hunter and trapper, 
Mr. Stimpson, who is still living in the town of 
Leyden at the advanced age of ninety-three (1897) 
gives his first impression of the old hunter as 



Nat Foster. 265 

most pleasant and favorable. He made them 
feel at home at once, and showed them about, 
explaining the interesting places in the clearing 
to those who were not familiar with them. He 
exhibited to the party several specimen proofs 
he had of his successful following of the chase. 
He had a large and varied collection of deers' 
antlers and many finely cured skins of wild 
animals. It is evident that he became an expert 
taxiderimist in the course of his life; besides 
these skins, which he showed the visitors, he had 
the mounted skins of four panthers set up, on 
a row of ash barrels by the house. They ap- 
peared, Mr. Stimson says, "as natural as life." 
Foster showed these specimens with pride, for 
they bore the mark of his bullets which had 
brought them to their death. "And each one," 
Mr. Stimpson declares, "had been shot right in 
the center of the forenead." 

When Foster learned that the party came for 
salmon fishing, he volunteered to accompany 
them up the lakes the next morning, which offer 
was gladly accepted, as he could show them the 
best places for casting. The old hunter enter- 
tained them during the evening with reminis- 
cences of his life and adventures. The stories 
he told, the reader is familiar with as being al- 
ready given in other parts of this book. Indeed, 
'18 



266 Life and Adventures of 

I was much surprised and pleasea when I came 
to interview Mr. Stimpson, to have many of the 
adventures of Foster I had already obtained 
from various sources, retold to me by him, and 
without my interrogation, as stories told him 
and his party by Foster himself at this time. 
Thus, ''in the mouths of two or three witnesses," 
they are established. 

The night before the eventful day on which 
Foster shot Drid, was the one the fishing party 
arrived on the tract. Among other adventures 
which Foster related were several of the Indian 
stories I have given, which he told in his usual 
guarded manner, so as not to incriminate him- 
self. The conversation drifted to the subject of 
Indians in general, however, and then Foster 
told them that there was one ''red devil" on the 
tract at the time who was giving him a great 
deal of trouble, and that "if he could catch him 
out anywhere he would put him where the dogs 
wouldn't bite nim." No one of the party doubted 
l)ut that he would do this, though they little 
thought they w^ould see him do it. There is no 
doubt but that Foster had ciecided to kill the 
Indian Drid, having failed to get a precept from 
the law against him. But it is doubtful if he in- 
tended to shoot him in as open a manner as he 
did the next dav, althou2:h he was convinced that 



Nat Foster. 267 

he had to meet and settle with the enemy some- 
where, as he had been compelled before to shoot 
many another Indian in the depths of the forest 
where no eye of man would observe his slaying 
his enemy, and about which there would be no 
questions asked when the savage did not appear 
at his usual haunts. But he failed to follow this 
usual course, and instead, shot his foe on the 
principal waterway of the tract, and when there 
were many witnesses of the deed. Tliis brought 
him for the first time into serious conflict with 
the law, and brought about his only indictment 
and trial for killing an Indian. 

The men of the fishing party retired late, but 
arose early in order to get an early start. After 
breakfasting they started, accompanied by Fos- 
ter. When they arrived at the middle clearing, 
he asked the party to stop while he would in- 
quire if Wood and Chase were ready, as he knew 
they were going up the lakes that morning, and 
he thought they might all go together. So they 
paused outside of the bachelors' lodge, setting 
their packs down for a rest while he entered the 
domicile. He found the bachelors eating their 
breakfast, while seated on the wood box by the 
fireplace, smoking his pipe, was his hated enemy 
Drid. He had some traps which he wished to 
get at Raquet Lake, and had invited himself to 



2 68 Life and Adventures of 

accompany Wood and Chase as far as they went. 
Foster took no notice of him, however, but en- 
tered into conversation with the others about 
the fishing party outside, and inquired when they 
would be ready to start. Wood told him in 
about an hour or possibly less, and Foster turned 
to go, when the Indian started up and blurted 
out, "Foster, you old cuss, what for you call me 
rascal the other day?" Foster thinking to turn 
the question away, answered in a jocular man- 
ner, "Because I was a mind to;" but this ap- 
peared to only inflame the Indian to action, and 
he sprang upon Foster. He was a lithe, muscular 
fellow, and only about twenty-five years old, but 
in spite of this advantage, he could not master 
the old man who clinched him. The bystanders 
quickly separated them, Drid calling loudly for 
his tomahawk, and Foster for his rifle; he was 
excited by this time, and as he regained his feet, 
he exclaimed, "You want to pick a quarrel with 

me this morning, you black ?" when 

the Indian, who had shaken off those who had 
pulled him away, sprang at the old man, this 
time with his knife drawn. His quick and un- 
expected attack took Foster by surprise, and he 
was borne to the floor by the Indian, who was 
just about to plunge his knife into the old man's 
heart, when Wood struck his hand, and the 



Nat Foster. 269 

knife inflicted only a flesh wound on Foster's 
wrist. Ag-ain the Indian was seized and pulled 
away, swearing like a pirate, exclaiming at the 
end of a horrid oath, "Foster, you old cuss, you 
no live till Christmas;" and Foster, whose worst 
passion was aroused, retorted, "and you'll do 
d d well if you live to see another moon." 

He now joined the waiting and anxious fisher- 
men, who had been alarmed, as well they might 
be, by the tussles and loud talking going 011 in 
the house. He procured some cloth from one of 
them and bound up his wrist, telling them they 
must go on without him, as he would not think 
of going up the lake that day. Leaving them, 
he started towards his own home. They watched 
him until he was hid from view by the trees, 
when they gathered up their things and started 
for the dam. They had gone but a few rods, 
however, when the report of a rifle up the road 
startled them. It was evidently fired by Foster, 
and they wondered if he had seen a deer to 
shoot. It was Foster's rifle they heard, but it 
was not a deer that caused the old hunter to 
discharge his piece. He had simply rid it of its 
present charge, to carefully load it for game of 
another kind. 

His mind was thoroughly settled. He must 
shoot the Indian ere ne returned from his trip 



270 Life and Adventures of 

lip the lakes or he would shoot him, or possibly 
murder him in his bed; for the Indian had threat- 
ened several times to enter Foster's dwelling in 
the night and stab him as he was sleeping. He 
now loaded his trusty rifle with two balls, and 
making a detour through the woods, he came 
out on the road ahead of the fishermen. When 
he reached the dam, he crossed to the north side 
of the river, and made his way through the for- 
ests to a point on the river, just below First Lake, 
where the boats, as they came up, had to pass. 
Taking up a position on this point among some 
bushes and between two large hemlocks, he 
a\vaited the arrival of the party. 

The fishermen reached the dam without inci- 
dent, and there waited for the arrival of Wood 
and Chase for instructions as to what boat to 
take. In due time they arrived, accompanied 
by Drid, who was still swearing vengeance at 
Foster, and w^as half inclined to abandon his 
trip to Raquet Lake and return to Foster's 
house to shoot him. He was dissuaded from this 
course, however, by Wood and Chase, w'ho pre- 
vailed on him to accompany them, and by doing 
this, instead of preserving, as they thought, the 
safety of Foster, they only lured the Indian to 
his owai death. After some delay in getting 
ready they all left the dam, Drid in a light bark 



Nat Foster. 271 

canoe, Wood and Chase in a large bark canoe, 
and the fishing party in a wooden boat. 

It is a twenty minutes' row from the dam at 
the Old Forge to Indian Point. At length the 
little fleet of boats drew near. Wood and Chase 
had some traps on shore here, and they and the 
Indian ceased paddling to put in and get them, 
while the fishing party continued on up the 
stream. As they neared the point, Mr. Stimp- 
son, who sat in the stern of the skiff, espied Fos- 
ter standing bareheaded among the bushes on 
the extreme end of the point, his rifle in his 
hand. Though surprised at seeing him there, 
when he had apparently gone home an hour be- 
fore, Stimpson knew at once what he was there 
for, and apprised the other occupants of the 
boat of the old hunter's presence on the point. 
Instantly aware of the tragedy that was to be en- 
acted, the rowers nervously but quickly pulled 
the boat past the point, while all excitedly 
awaited the event. As they rounded the point, 
Stimpson turned in his seat in the stern of the 
boat, and motioning to Wood and Chase, 
pointed to the shore, and they, too, as they pad- 
dled to the shore, saw Foster farther out at the 
point. Knowing what object brought him there 
they got their traps witHout a moment's delay 
and pushed out into the stream. 



272 Life and Adventures of 

The Indian now guessed from the actions of 
the members of the fishing party and the con- 
duct of Wood and Chase, as they hastily got 
their traps, that the man he feared was on the 
point, and he changed the position of his canoe 
SO' that it was on the south side of the trappers' 
canoe, and his own body midway between theirs. 

'* Although Foster was several rods distant 
from the canoes," says Simms, "still the position 
of his foe did not secure his safety. As they 
rounded the point the Indian's eye caught a 
glimpse of the fearful figure in the bushes just 
as the rifle was poised, and he threw^ up his arms 
in terror, at the moment of the explosion. Both 
bullets entered his left side near the arm-pit, 
passed through his heart and went out below the 
rig-ht arm. They entered at the same spot, but 
left two places of egress opposite. The Indian 
fell backwards, with his head and shoulders in 
the v>ater, his feet and legs remaining in the 
canoe. He fell so dead that his position re- 
mained unchanged, the fairy craft preserving the 
cradling motion communicated to it by the fall, 
for some time after the spirit of its owner had 
winged its flight," 

To range the circuit of the sky. 

Wood and Chase, who really saw the shooting, 
and the members of the fishing party who, from 



Nat Foster. 273 

their position on the river beyond the point, only 
heard the report of the rifle, but knew its sig- 
nificance, were, according to their own testi- 
mony at the trial, "perty badly frightened," so 
much so that one of the fishing party did not 
visit the chain again in ten years. 

As soon as the echoes from the old hunter's 
rifle, which had brought down its last Indian, 
had died away, Wood and Chase set up a great 
hallooing to the fishing party to come back, as 
there was a dead man in the river. They obeyed, 
though reluctantly, for they did not wish to be 
mixed up in the affair; for as Mr. Stimpson ex- 
pressed it, "it was going to spoil our fishing- 
trip." When they arrived at the scene Foster 
had disappeared, and Wood and Chase were 
ashore. They, anxious to free themselves from 
any future complications, now discharged their 
guns to show the fishermen that they had not 
fired the shot that brought death to Drid. They 
then had a consultation, as to the disposition of 
the Indian's body. Some said it ought not to 
be disturbed until it was viewed by a coroner; 
while others pronounced this as absurd, as it 
would take at least two days to notify a coroner 
and get him onto the tract, during which time 
the body would become loosened from the canoe 
and float awav. Thev were not able to arrive at 



2 74 -^^^^ CL^d Adventures of 

an agreement, and so returned to the dam, and 
concluded to do what was a Httle ironical; that 
was, to ask Foster's advice. 

Wood and young Tyler went to his house for 
this purpose, leaving the rest at the dam. The 
distance from the point where the shooting oc- 
curred to the dam is greater by water than a 
direct route on land, and Foster, having tra- 
versed the land route, returned home before the 
others had returned to the dam. He had wiped 
out his rifle and changed his clothes ere the 
messengers arrived. Some say he shot a deer 
on the way home and had it dressed and hanging 
in front of his house when they arrived. But 
I have not been able to verify this statement. 
They found the old man resting on a bed; he 
had on his best suit of clothes and a linen shirt 
with an old-fashioned starched collar. He ap- 
peared to have made himself ready for going out 
of the woods at once. He expressed surprise at 
seeing Wood and Tyler, and inquired what 
brought them back. They replied that Drid was 
dead up the river and they did not know what 
to do about getting the body down, and had 
come to ask his advice what to do. The old 
man expressed no surprise at the announce- 
ment of the Indian's death; but did so at their 
beimr afraid to touch the liodv. He told them 



Nat Foster. 275 

they should have no hesitancy about getting it 
to the landing, and offered to go with them and 
assist. The messengers agreed to this and he 
arose and accompanied them to the dam. 

When they arrived, all >.at Stimpson and the 
elder Tyler embarked in the skiff the fishing 
party had used, and with Foster in the stern 
steering they rowed to the scene of the shooting. 
They found the body still floating as it fell, with 
the legs in the canoe. Even then all but Foster 
declined to touch it, and so, while the others held 
the canoe, he got the corpse back into it, and 
they then towed it to the dam, where the tiny craft 
with its gory cargo was made fast to the land- 
ing, and a blanket procured and thrown over it. 
The matter of notifying a coroner and justice 
was then talked over with Foster and they all 
agreed to go out the next day. 

The fishing party, to whom the events of the 
day had brought an abrupt ending of their plans, 
again stayed with Foster over night, and he en- 
tertained them as on the previous evening with 
stories of his adventures in the woods. 

One of the striking things to be noted in con- 
nection with the conduct of all after the tragedy, 
is, that no mention was made b}' any one, of how 
Drid came to his death. Foster neither feigned 
ignorance or intimated the least knowledge of 



276 Life and Adventures of 

it. He followed the course any attorney would 
have told him to, and set the seal of silence on 
his lips. The next day all tramped out of the 
woods, Foster being in as jovial and good-na- 
turcd a mood as any, telling them, as they passed 
a ledge of rocks, of how he had shot a panther 
and deer there. The house of the first officer 
of the law they reached after an eighteen mile 
tramp was that of Justice Harris, wdio had re- 
fused a few months before to issue a peace war- 
rant to Foster against the Indian he had now 
slain. They found Harris at home and the wit- 
nesses related the affair to him and asked him 
to issue a warrant for Foster's arrest. But to his 
credit be it said, that though he had shown his 
weakness of character in not granting a peace 
Avarrant to Foster against the Indian, now showed 
his friendship for Foster by refusing to cause his 
arrest, referring them to a justice who lived a 
few miles farther, and had Foster stay with him. 
The rest of the party continued on their journey 
tmtil they came to the home of Justice Lyman 
R. Lyon, to whom Harris had referred them. 
But he, too, declined to issue a warrant for the 
old hunter, w^ho was a friend of his, and referred 
them to still another justice, Segar, in the town 
of Turin. They found Justice Segar, afterwards 
a judge, at home. After hearing the facts of the 



Nat Foster. 277 

case he issued a warrant for Foster and detained 
the whole party over night at the pubUc house 
as witnesses. In the morning he dispatched a 
constable to the home of Harris to arrest Fos- 
ter. The officer returned about noon with his 
prisoner, who came willingly, and cheerfully 
submitted to the examination. Court was con- 
vened in the sitting room of the tavern, and after 
the witnesses had been sworn and testified, Fos- 
ter was remanded to jail in the village of Mar- 
tinsburg. 

It is presumed that a coroner was sent to the 
Old Forge and viewed the remains of the In- 
dian and then buried them, though I have been 
unable to ascertain as tO' this. Simms says in 
his book that the body was buried the day of 
the shooting and that Foster assisted. But Mr. 
Stimpson declares that the body was left in the 
canoe, covered with a blanket; and it must have 
been buried by the coroner, or under his direc- 
tion, by either Willard Johnson or Foster's son 
David, who were the only men left on the tract 
when the others went out. A brother of Drid 
came to the Forge from Canada soon after the 
shooting. They belonged to the St. Regis tribe. 
He took up his l:>rother's body and reinterred it 
in Indian style. Drid's squaw^ it is said, mani- 
fested no emotion at her husband's death, and 



278 Life and Adventures of 

the nearest approach she showed to any interest 
in his body, was to cut out the pieces of blanket 
which contained the bullet holes for keepsakes, 
when the reinterrmeiit took place. Her brother- 
in-law took her and her children, of which she 
had a number, back to Canada with him. The 
grave of this last Indian Foster shot was to be 
seen near the shore at Old Forge for many 
years. The mound was marked by a cross bear- 
ing the simple inscription of "Pete." In recent 
years it has been neglected, and when I visited 
Old Forge in 1895 I found it covered with a pile 
of lumber, the product of the sawmill still main- 
tained there. If restored and marked it would 
be an interesting feature of the place. 

Times had changed. The law had penetrated 
even to the heart of the Adirondack wilderness. 
Foster w^as well aware of this, as we can see by 
his long toleration of the Indian's insolent con- 
duct. Foster did not remain long in the Mar- 
tinsburg jail. The shooting occurred in Her- 
kimer county, and so his friends in Salisbury, 
to the number of one hundred, w^ent to Martins- 
burg and took him to the Herkimer county jail, 
in the village of Herkimer, Avhere he remained 
until his trial. He was indicted for murder at a 
court of General Sessions convened in Herkimer 
on February 3d, 1834. He was arraigned for 



Nat Foster. 279 

trial September 3d, of the same year, in the 
Circuit Court of tlie county. Although the trial 
lasted but two days, it attracted great attention, 
for Foster was very popular all through that 
part of the county. The account of the trial as 
given in Simms' book is quite interesting. The 
prosecution had first to prove that Foster really 
fired the shot w^hich brought death to the Indian. 
This was not actually proven by direct evidence, 
so skilfully did the defense cross-examine the 
witnesses presented by the people. Neither 
Wood or Chase or any member of the fishing 
party were able to swear that they saw the dis- 
charge of Foster's rifle, though all had seen him 
on the point, immediately before the Indian was 
killed. They all heard .a shot and Wood and 
Chase saw the Indian fall, but no one saw Fos- 
ter shoot. From this the attorney for the de- 
fense very suavely argued that the Indian might 
have been killed by a stray shot from a hunter 
in the woods. For the defense it was an easy 
matter to present evidence to^ prove the quarrel- 
some disposition of the Indian. Any number 
of hunters and others w^ere in the court room 
ready and willing to testify to this. Next, the 
threats and attacks the Indian had made on Fos- 
ter's life, particularly the one of the morning he 
met his death, was brought into evidence. Con- 



2 8o Life and Adi'cntures of 

cerning the admission of this evidence presented 
by the defense, Mr. Snyder says: 

"The court was composed of Hon. Hiram 
Denio, presiding, who was one of the great 
judges of the State, and Jonas Cleland, of War- 
ren, John B. Dygert, of Frankfort, Abijah Os- 
born, of Herkimer, and Richard Herrenden, of 
Newport, were the side judges of the Common 
Pleas. When the defense was reached, one of 
the witnesses was asked, 'Did you ever hear this 
Indian threaten to kill Foster?' To this the 
District Attorney objected. Judge Denio held 
the testimony to be inadmissable, when much 
to his surprise and astonishment three of the 
side judges announced that it w'as admissible, 
thereby overruling Judge Denio's law. Under 
this ruling of the side judges, Foster was per- 
mitted to prove that the Indian had threatened 
to kill him. It is interesting to note that the 
Court of Appeals subsequently in the Fisk- 
Stokes murder case, substantially affirmed the 
law promulgated by these side judges." 

The summing up of Foster's attorney, Mr. E. 
P. Hurlbut, is said to have been a masterly ef- 
fort, full of pathos and tender references to the 
aged prisoner at the bar. Many were moved to 
tears by his elociuence. 

In his charge the Court advised the jury that 



Nat Foster. 28 1 

"the law applied to the region of the country 
where the offense was committed. In regard 
to the race to which Peter Waters, the person 
named in the indictment, belonged," he said, 
"no one could take the life of such a one without 
h reasons as would authorize the taking- the 



sue 



life of any other human being." His charge 
rather argued for conviction in some degree of 
murder or manslaughter. The jury retired and 
after a short deliberation returned. As the jury- 
men entered and took their seats, the crowded 
court room became hushed. 

The moment, even more than is usual on 
such occasions, was one of intense interest. To 
so great a tension had the feelings of the old 
hunter been drawn by the excitement of the 
trial, that he now seemed hovering between life 
and death, and was insensible during the in- 
terrogation of the jury. 

"Gentlemen of the jury," said the clerk, "have 
you arrived at a verdict?" 

"We have," answered the foreman, "we find 
the prisoner not guilty." 

A murmur of applause ran through the 
crowded chambers, but Foster was unconscious 
of it all. It was with considerable difHculty that 
he was roused to consciousness, so as to under- 
stand his fate. When the words "Not Guilty'' 
19 



282 Life and Adventures of 

had been repeated to him several times, he ap- 
peared to reaUze their meaning, and rising up, 
he siezed Mr. Hurlbnt, his chief counsel, with a 
grip which the Judge used afterward to say wa'S 
''more than powerful," and straining him to his 
breast, exclaimed, "God bless yoii," then re- 
leasing his hold, he turned, and he stretched 
out both hands wide over the heads of the 
people that filled the court room, and ex- 
claimed "God bless you all, God bless the 
people." His friends who were jubilant over 
the verdict then seized him, and placing him on 
their shoulders, marched in triumph through 
the streets of the village. Mr. Hurlbut and Fos- 
ter never met again; as the old trapper soon after 
left the state. Mr, Hurlbut's fee for conducting 
the defense was fifty dollars, which Foster left 
with his son Amos, to give to his attorney. It 
was considered liberal compensation for thos-i 
days. 

The closing years of Foster's life were as 
peaceful and uneventful, as they well deserved 
to be. He had sold his farm at Salisbury to his 
son Amos in the summer preceding his trial. 
After his trial he spent sometime with his mar- 
ried children, after which he went with his wife 
to Wilkesbarre, Pennsylvania, where some of 
his relations lived, Simms savs that he was 



Nat Foster. 285 

afraid to remain in the country after killing the 
Indian at Old Forge. But this is highly im- 
probable, as he had shot too many Indians in 
his days to be afraid of any of Drid's friends 
wreaking vengeance on him. It is true that he 
visited Fulton Chain but a few times after he 
shot Drid, but this was merely precautionary. 
He spent most of his time before going to 
Pennsylvania with his daughter Jemima, in the 
town of Ava, which was then on the very edge 
of Brown's Tract, and never displayed any fear 
of being molested. 

Even in his new home in Pennsylvania, he 
continued to hunt a little. In his seventy-third 
year he shot a small deer about a mile and a 
half from his home. As of yore, he threw the 
carcass across his shoulders and started for 
home, but as he was ascending a hill a quarter 
of a mile from his house, he was taken with a 
severe pain in his chest, and distinctly felt some- 
thing "give way," as he expressed it, in the re- 
gion of his lungs. He struggled home, and fell 
fainting on the door steps, bleeding from the 
mouth. He rallied in a few days, and realizing 
that he could not live long, declared he must 
go to his daughter Jemima to die. Accord- 
ingly, as soon as he was able, he and his wife 
started on the long journey. They journeyed by 



284 Life and Adventures of 

water as far as Rome, N. Y., where they pro- 
cured a horse and driver, who took them to 
Ava, a distance of fourteen miles. They 
arrived at the home of his son-in-law David 
Edgerton, the husband of Jemima, considerably 
after dark; and wishing to have some fun with 
his 'children, the old man sent the driver into 
the house with instructions to ask "for lodging 
for two old people who had made a long journey 
that day, and could go no farther." After some 
demurs, Mr. and Mrs. Edgerton finally said, 
that if it would be any accommodation to the 
aged travelers, they would take them in, but 
still they said they did not see any reason why 
they should not go on tO' the tavern. The driver 
urged them, however, and they finally gave a 
decisive and affirmative answer, when he with- 
drew and brought in Mrs. Edgerton's parents. 
Great was their rejoicing, and the rejoicing of 
their children, with whom they were great 
favorites, especially grandpa, because of the 
stories he used to tell them before he went away. 
The old hunter lived less than a year after his 
return to Ava. On the 14th of March, in 1840, 
a sudden change came over him, which even his 
young grand-children were able to detect, by 
his changed demeanor; the absence of his cheery 
words, and kindly attentions. His iron consti- 



Nat Foster. 285 

tution had worn out, and the mechanism of his 
being was now propelled only by the momentum 
given to it by its years of ceaseless activity. 
Preparations were quickly made for his tender 
care, by the loving ones who surrounded him. 
A bed was prepared for him in the living room 
of the house, while the members of the house- 
hold vied with each other in their efforts to 
make everything quiet and comfortable for 
''grandpa." 

The end came speedily. On the morning of 
the 1 6th tney saw it was approaching. Neigh- 
bors and friends gathered in kind solicitude. 
His faithful wife sat by his bedside; his daughter 
Jemima by the fireplace, with her youngest child, 
a boy of three years, on her knees. The little 
fellow slipped from his mother's knee, and ap- 
proached the bed on which the dying hunter 
lay; he stopped in the middle of the room, when 
some one picked him up and carried him to the 
bedside, that he might see his grandfather once 
more. The old hunter recognized the child, 
and his eyes lit up with a gleam of pleasure, and 
he was gone. 

And so he passed away; with the March wind 
howling without, but with the cheerful singing 
of a kettle hanging from a crane over the fire 
within, his loving friends and family breathing 



2 86 Life and Adventures of 

prayers for him, his own face ilkimed with a 
smile of peace. In the midst of such peaceful 
and hallowed surroundings, the old hunter and 
trapper went to meet his God. 

Thus do we leave him, the hero of so many 
and gallant exploits. i\ hero, not because he 
killed a few Indians, whose rights have always 
been trampled upon; but a hero because of the 
sturdy character he developed and displayed 
in maintaining his own rights, as he saw^ and 
understood them; fearing, as his father had 
taught him, not the face of clay, but only the 
face of him in whose hands we leave him, who 
set his mark on the murderer Cain, and who ex- 
tended mercy to Moses wdio slew a man, and 
concealed the body in the sands of the Egyptian 
plain. 



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